


a sprinkle of cinnamon, a dash of sunshine

by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternative Universe - Countryside, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22971790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curryramyeon/pseuds/tinygumdrops
Summary: A new guy around Shouyou's age comes to Satomori, which is strange. Nobody goes to Satomori.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 159
Kudos: 414
Collections: Haikyuu Fics That Light my soul on Fire





	1. prologue: plums grow under spring rains

**Author's Note:**

> this is the countryside!au i've always wanted to write for this pairing. this fic features kagehina in their late twenties, with loads of traveling and food porn. 
> 
> song choice: [big bird in a small cage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpuZ-khasgA) by patrick watson  
> fic playlist can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cs7ewExyQHPN0BbNMd2LD).
> 
> hope you'll all enjoy!

~O~

It takes a while for the light to flicker on when Tobio flips the switch. The abrupt change in brightness makes him squint and flounder for the walls as he slowly pushes his left shoe off with his other heel. Spring rains have made Tobio's apartment quite frigid; he absently rubs his palm over the gooseflesh on his arms.

Earlier, he woke up from a dreamless sleep, his rumbling stomach wrenching him out of his slumber. Of course, there was nothing inside his fridge when he opened it. His cupboard held nothing but a box of curry roux and a half-empty jar of oolong tea leaves. He had to change from his pajamas, groggily jam his toothbrush into his mouth, and step out of his apartment to the convenience store two blocks away.

He's quick to the dining table, shaking off the contents of the paper bag. He bought a large carton of milk, four egg sandwiches, and one _bento_.

"Thank you for the meal." The _bento_ doesn't look particularly appetizing, but Tobio peels off the plastic covering anyway and nabs a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. When his lips part to take a bite, he's suddenly aware of the tackiness at the sides of his mouth, and the way his throat constricts painfully, rough and boggy with disuse. It's hard to swallow the chicken down, and when he takes a small helping of rice—

He runs to the nearby trash can and spits everything out.

Tobio sighs, leaning his head against the wall in frustration. Everything just tastes _terrible_.

He takes out a bottle of water and drinks to wash off the taste, looking out of the window. It's stopped raining, but who knows when the early morning showers will start again? Spring weather in Tokyo can be so changeable. Tobio leans his head on the walls again, his thoughts wandering aimlessly.

He then pulls out his phone and types the address his mom gave him long ago. If he goes now, it will be a ten-hour drive from Tokyo—eight, if he doesn't stop. The doctors have strongly advised him against driving long distances by himself, but there's no one he can call to accompany him at this hour. It's inconsiderate. He doesn't know how long he'll be gone, either.

He hastily packs whatever he can in his suitcase, unearths the gray silk pouch he's kept in his sock drawer, gets his car keys and drives away.

~O~


	2. part i: camellias flutter where your feet pass

~O~

_March 18, 2024  
Spring_

...

Bicycling back to his house, Shouyou lifts his face to the wind that blows from the mountainside. The burn on his cheeks keeps him from dawdling, the sharp, spicy scent of camphor biting in his lungs whenever he breathes in. Although the pear flowers have already started to pop tiny, pink petals by the creek, the remnants of winter's cold make the wooden walls of the Hinata residence almost unbearable. He needs to be back home before the sun sets.

He crosses the bridge that runs over the river separating the east side of Kamiyama from the west side. The east side, where Satomori nestles, is the small, quaint village where Shouyou lives. It's largely secluded, the shale-roofed houses separated by patches of land where residents can raise their sheep and cattle, and grow their own vegetables. Decades ago, these lands that used to be rich in sand and limestone made sugar cane farms flourish. With the now arid soil, the mills have become empty, leaving the west side taking up the bulk of the sugar production. Naturally, the west has become the upscale part of Kamiyama. Hardly anyone comes to Satomori anymore for anything.

Which is why Shouyou is more than astounded to find a sleek, black Lexus parked right across the street from his house, with quite a gathering of people admiring it. The lights are on in the second floor of the traditional, two-story home that has been empty for as long as Shouyou can remember.

"Not so empty anymore, ain't it?" Yokohito, the town deputy, elbows Shouyou as he gets off his bike. "We've got one of 'em city folks. He looks just about your age. But taller. _Much_ taller."

Shouyou pokes his tongue out as he drags his bike off the footpath. "Taller, eh? I bet I can jump over his shoulders. I prol'ly can do a _handstand_ on 'em." There hasn't been any guy in Satomori who Shouyou can't jump over. He's been doing it as a challenge to himself ever since he was a kid. Ridiculous, but fun, anyways.

"Ha! Wouldn't dream of it—he's a _giant_ , Shouyou-kun! I'm not kidding!"

"Where's he from?"

Yokohito crosses his arms. "He said he came from Tokyo. Isn't your sister out there in university or something? Why don't you ring her up, tell her about the new guy?"

"All 'em Tokyo folks know each other, for sure," Shouyou says with a teasing grin. "But yeah, why not? I'll go call her later, see what she's up to."

"He's a handsome lot—must be the dang chemicals in the water in Tokyo—though more on the quiet side, I think. Michuzi-san wants to fatten him up for roasting. You want to go and check him out?"

"I'll go say hi after the line's dried out," Shouyou says, jutting his chin at the crowd. "I'll go check up on Grandma first."

"Hinata-san isn't feeling well?"

"I hope not. Her joints were acting up yesterday. Must be the cold..."

"Must be, must be."

Shouyou bids him goodbye and parks his bicycle by the shed where they keep the crocks filled with fermenting leeks, _mizuna_ and vinegar. Mud cakes the rear wheel of his bicycle. He tries to scrape it off with the sole of his sneakers.

"I'm home!" he calls out after opening the shutter, putting his muddy shoes at the side. It's cold. Shouyou adds fresh firewood in the ancient, cast iron stove. He places two heat resistant bricks on top before going to the kitchen. After wrapping the two sweet potatoes with aluminum foil, he rests them atop the bricks.

"Shouyou?" a gravelly voice from the bedroom says. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Gran." Shouyou enters his grandmother's bedroom and kneels beside her _futon_. "I just came back from delivering Shimamura-san's order. He must be craving _hoto_ these days. I think it's the fifth time this week I made it for him..."

Grandma smiles, and for a moment, the brightness of her expression belies her age. She turned eighty-one a week ago; her flaming red-orange hair, once an object of awe and fear during her teenage years, is now chalky white and lusterless. But her eyes—honey-brown and almost, _almost_ like Shouyou's—beam and glitter from time to time. Like all Hinata women, the blood of the hearth deity runs strongly in her. "You worked hard. Are you tired?"

Shouyou laughs, pulling the sheets closer and tucking it in. "Of course not! I got 'em sweet potatoes you like."

"I can almost taste them. They smell delicious."

"Ah! Did you know about the person who moved in just now? Yokohito-san says he's from Tokyo."

"Mmm? Really? What's he like?"

"I haven't met him yet. Yokohito-san said we might be the same age." It's been actual _decades_ since anyone from the city permanently moved to this town. The last one was Yokohito Satoru himself, who moved twenty-three years ago. He quit his university job in Yokohama and brought his wife with him, said it was always their plan to raise their kids away from the hectic pace of one of the country's busiest cities.

Yokohito was thirty when he moved here. It's quite curious how some allegedly good-looking, fancy car-owning, twenty-something bachelor decided to turn up in Satomori, not to mention succeed in finding it anywhere on the map. Perhaps he's a tourist?

"He must be a visitor," Grandma says, echoing Shouyou's thoughts. "Either way, we should welcome him properly. Wake me up early tomorrow, would you? I'd like to cook something... is the parrot fish—"

"The one from yesterday? It's in the freezer. Are you sure you're feeling okay already?"

Grandma scoffs. "I can't be upstaged by my own grandson. What will I be without my reputation?"

"Mizutani-san likes your grilled sea trout best! I still have more to learn." Shouyou stands to his full height and salutes her.

"I'm not sure about that," she says forlornly. "You grow up way too fast, my sweet."

Shouyou chuckles, sweeping the curtains with the back of his hand. "Don't worry, Gran. I'll try not to."

He checks to see if the potatoes are baked enough, and once they are, he hurriedly brings them to his grandmother's room, grasping them gingerly with mittened hands. But when he comes back, Hinata Eiko is sound asleep, her deep breaths coming out as soft whistles as she dreams. 

Tiptoeing to his upstairs room, Shouyou brings the sweet potatoes and feasts on them as he re-reads his favorite comic books on his bed. He falls asleep to the sound of the moon moths fluttering against the shutters.

~O~

In the town hall, members of the committee have gathered around a low-set rosewood table. Beside the fifty-paged committee agenda neatly filed inside a clear folder, there's green tea served with freshly picked tangerines. Shouyou busies himself with snacking on the citrus instead of perusing the assembly documents, though he does try his best to pay attention to what the master of the meeting has to say. After all, he's far and away the youngest one in the room.

All the stakeholders in the community are required to attend the local assemblies held every quarter of the year. Town deputy Yokohito and Kirigaya Hiroshi, the master of the meeting, are both in their fifties, but most of the committee members are already in their late sixties and seventies. Hinata Eiko's current state of health has prevented her from attending meetings since the year previous, and so Shouyou has to represent the Hinata household. It's a good thing the kind, diligent folks of Satomori have taken a liking to the young Hinata. His constant rocking and squirming on his padded seat can be quite distracting.

"If you could flip the page to thirty-three, there's an update about our request for provision on tractors," Kirigaya says. There's the sound of paper rustling. "The local government's currently in the process of purchasing three more of the Topcon models. They'll come this September, just in time for harvest. But the approval may take a while. Let us pray that won't be the case."

There's a polite round of applause from the committee. Shouyou joins in with a whoop of his own.

The meeting goes on for another twenty minutes, with the members reporting their crop yield from the past year and complaining about the recent infestation of stink bugs. They open the floor to suggestions for the Mud Sports Festival this June—one of Shouyou's favorite events of the year—and then the ladies start serving ground chicken rice bowls, spicy _edamame_ and tea. Shouyou’s also brought the last batch of his candied chestnuts for dessert, which was a hit from last quarter's meeting. He hands the members a jar each.

"Shouyou-kun!" Matsuda Naoko, one of the town's meat vendors and a loyal customer of the Hinatas, waves a wrinkly hand at Shouyou, urging him to sit beside her. "Have you talked to him already?"

Shouyou wolfs down the last of his rice bowl. "Who?"

"Him! Your new _neighbor_!" Matsuda says. "I heard he's Mayaka-chan's son!"

"Is he now? No wonder. He's got her eyes," Noguchi Yoko claims. From what Shouyou can gather, she's Matsuda's closest friend. "I haven't heard from Mayaka-chan in ages. She must be doing well."

"Oh, I believe so. Her husband must have been _very_ tall. And handsome. She moved to Miyagi with him, d'you recall?"

"Somewhere in Sendai, I believe."

"Oh, that's right! It must be Sendai..."

Shouyou blinks, not quite following the conversation. There's a whole other history out there that'll take some time to unearth.

"D’you reckon he’s married?" Matsuda says.

"Who? The lad? With that sort of face and figure, there has to be a young lady somewhere in the equation," Noguchi says. "So you haven’t met him yet, Shouyou?"

"No, not yet," he says. "I was actually going to, the other day! Gran and I already prepared something for him to eat, but then something urgent came up and I had to go to Kochiko. My friend Izumi was really insistent that we get the first catch—"

Noguchi cries in delight. "Kochiko? Now, isn't that news? Make sure you give me the freshest needlefish, Shouyou-kun!"

A shadow then looms from behind them. There's a tap on Shouyou's shoulder, and Shouyou twists to find Kirigaya frowning at him.

"Can I borrow Hinata-san for a moment?" Kirigaya says to the women. After getting their approval, he leads Shouyou to the hallway outside.

Shouyou's palms sweat; he attempts to surreptitiously wipe them off the back of his pants.

Kirigaya must have sensed Shouyou's nervousness, for his expression eases immediately. "Dear heavens, boy! You're not in trouble."

" _Really_?" Shouyou exhales loudly. And he thought Kirigaya would rip him a new one for not listening earlier.

Kirigaya quirks an amused brow. "No, but you should really do something about that fidgeting of yours. You're a busy man, Hinata, so I'll go straight to the point. Have you made acquaintance with the young man who moved into the house next to yours a few days ago?"

 _Wow_ , Shouyou marvels. Four days in, and New Guy is already a celebrity in these fields. "Er, no. Not yet."

Kirigaya nods, as if expecting it. "We've been meaning to have ourselves introduced, but the visitor doesn't seem quite... receptive. To anyone, at all. He doesn't come out except to get something from his car. It's been days now."

 _Which is strange_ , Shouyou can hear the words Kirigaya left unsaid. Anything strange and unexpected has always made the residents of Satomori terribly discomfited. They might take a while to be reassured of things, but most of the time... "Matsuda-san says he's the son of, um. Mayaka-san. Am I right?"

"Ah! Iwasawa Mayaka. Why, yes. Yes, she's from here. She married and left around thirty years ago," Kirigaya says. "I see, if he's her son..." he then mumbles, lost in thought.

"Kirigaya-san?"

Kirigaya's expression turns serious. "Hinata, is it alright if the assembly asks you to talk to Iwasawa-san's son? Just so the town has an idea who he is. And if there's anything the residents of Satomori can help him with..."

"Oh, jeez, that isn't a big deal at all!" Shouyou exclaims, waving his hands. "I was going to introduce myself anyway, me and Gran. Just leave it to me, Kirigaya-san!" He'd be lying if he said he's not the least bit excited. He's always looking forward to meeting someone new, but there's also the prospect of something ( _finally!_ ) happening in this small, quiet town, and it makes him buzz on the spot. He wonders what New Guy is like, what he's seen, what he's been through. Maybe they'll be friends. He's got great taste in cars, at least.

Kirigaya claps him thrice on the back, which— _ow_. A woodcutter's hand can be heavy. "I know I can count on you. Just lay on him the good ol' Hinata charm."

Shouyou flushes as he grins. "I'll do my best."

...

Hinata Shouyou comes from a long line of gifted individuals blessed by _Kamui Fuchi_ , the goddess of the hearth. It's been said that _Kamui Fuchi_ , who had once deemed a Hinata worthy of being a guardian of the hearth fire, had given her new follower a piece of the sacred flame. It was then passed on from parent to child, until one day, the flames became too weak and were extinguished.

Interestingly, all the Hinatas that came to the world since have unique, striking features—toasty brown eyes, burnt orange hair—and the females born in the family have peculiar, unexplained gifts. There was one that could sense when a person was lying, and there were three others who could breathe fire. It was a mystery as old as the family itself. 

Hinata Atsushi, Shouyou's great grandfather, surmised that one of their female ancestors might have unwittingly absorbed the fire instead; after the flames had coursed through her veins as she lived her remaining years, the hearth became something that could be passed on by blood, with its power having the strongest manifestations in women. But without any record or definite proof, all of it was just that—speculation.

Eiko's one of the few surviving female descendants of the hearth guardians, and her gift is what transformed the Hinatas from the ostracized family of Satomori, to the venerated household it’s known today. She has an uncanny sense of knowing "which goes where"—she can _tell_ where things should be. The bowls and the utensils are always where they should be, and it's a funny sight to see her have a fit whenever Shouyou forgets to put chopstick rests on the table.

Her ability translated well into her cooking. She just knows what kind of spices to add, how long should things be kept in the steamer, what type of salt would best bring out the flavor in a dish. Now, the Hinatas are known for their _unagi_ and rice cakes. Even the very much despised, ready-made food are well-received, if the Hinatas are the ones that made them.

Shouyou's younger sister Natsu presented at the tender age of six. Whereas Eiko can sense where things are supposed to be, Natsu knows where she herself should be. She knows where to go to avoid a misstep, and she knows how to present herself that will get people to listen, despite her soft, baby face and petite figure. She's never been in an accident, and she's quick in making decisions for herself. She's only ten when she announced to her family, _"I'll leave for Tokyo once I graduate high school. I'm going to be in university just like Mom."_

And she was right. She's studying to be a public defender in a prestigious university in Tokyo. It's been four summers since she left.

Meanwhile, Shouyou isn't magical like Natsu or Eiko, but his pigheadedness has been the stuff of legends in Satomori. He's fast, loud, with boundless energy, and ridiculously friendly—so much so that people from neighboring villages started availing the Hinatas' food delivery service, when they heard the twenty-seven year old Hinata scion has become the head of the family and is currently in charge of its dealings. He hasn't inherited his grandmother's cooking prowess, but he's a quick study, and under Eiko's supervision, their business thrived.

Being the only one in their twenties actively choosing to spend the rest of his life in Satomori, Shouyou has garnered the respect of the community. It's almost hard to believe that seventy long years ago, when one hears of the name _Hinata_ , the villagers would raise their noses and avoid their house in scorn of their magic.

It's quite amazing how much delicious, homemade food and a show of loyalty could mean so much to an old-world, farming village in Japan. Shouyou understands, to a certain extent, how much his staying in Satomori has given the dying generation some semblance of hope, has kept them from losing what remains to be their way of life. And he understands, best of all, that he needs them as much as they need him.

That's why, even after his father died at the same time Natsu went away, and even though all of his friends have left for the cities, Shouyou has stood, stubbornly strong, and planted his roots firmly in Satomori’s soil. He'll be here until the fire of the hearth inside him dies out.

...

The Iwasawa residence is only a few, short steps away from Shouyou's house, though Shouyou takes a good ten minutes admiring the Lexus parked under the sycamore tree. If only Shouyou could take this one out for a test drive. It's definitely a better set of wheels than the battered delivery truck Shouyou inherited from his uncle. Maybe he could proposition New Guy to lend it to him for a day? A week? Several weeks?

The side mirror alone might cost Shouyou as much as a kidney. He wonders what kind of person would bring a car like this in such a place, where most of the roads are only wide enough for bicycles and wooden carts to pass through.

Shouyou knocks on the door. No one responds. He tries again twice with the same result. For the fourth time, he knocks and shouts, "Hello! _Helloo_! Anybody home? My name's Hinata Shouyou and I live right across the street! I came to bring—"

The heavy wooden door opens with a strong gust.

"—Food?" Shouyou finishes weakly. He stands face-to-face with a tall, lean man with dark, glaring eyes set on a pale, handsome face. His straight black hair is wet, and there's a towel slung around his neck. Reflexively, Shouyou gulps and raises his shoulders. "Er—I have seared bonito and boiled eggs with rice. And _yatsuhashi_ , mister. Sir."

The man is still glaring at him. "Who are you?" New Guy says in a low, husky voice. It's like he hasn’t spoken to anyone living for months.

Shouyou bows and tries to smile. "I'm Hinata Shouyou! I'm your neighbor and I came to bring you food."

The man looks placidly at the _bento_. "Why did you bring food?" he says rather rudely.

Shouyou steels his shoulders. "To welcome you here. Duh."

New Guy squints at him.

Irritated, Shouyou presses the _bento_ close to his chest. "But if you don't want it, I’ll be going, then..."

Something in New Guy's expression changes. His heavily-lidded eyes grow wider, and his mouth slackens from the scowl he was sporting earlier. "What do you have?"

"Seared bonito in balsamic vinegar, with boiled eggs and rice," Shouyou repeats. "Also a couple of _yatsuhashi_ as a treat."

New Guy's eyes widen even more, but the rest of his face remains impassive. "Can I have it?"

It's Shouyou's turn to be confused. "Well, yeah. Of course." He brought this to his place, didn't he?

"Do you have milk?"

"Erm, no...? There's a small grocery store that sells cartons of 'em, but you'll have to bike _allllll_ the way down to Kochiko where the fish port is. It'll take you about two hours to get there if you’re lucky."

"Oh." New Guy holds out his arms, and Shouyou hands over the _bento_. He stares at the food for what Shouyou wagers is an inappropriate amount of time.

"Thank you," New Guy mutters.

Shouyou licks his lips. No, _Thanks, Hinata-san! I'll be sure to enjoy it!_ or _Thank you so much! How about I take you out on a drive with my car after?_ He’s met all kinds of folks by virtue of selling and delivering food to every corner of Satomori and beyond. Even the tourists staying in guest houses are more animated and welcoming when they see him on the doorstep. Perhaps New Guy takes a lot more than a nudge.

Satomori hasn't had a visitor in years; no regular person would know so much about this town. It does make sense for one to be a little wary of the locals, at least.

Shouyou decides to be more forthcoming, even if New Guy's pinched look at the _bento_ in his hands is equal parts insulting and hilarious.

"Like I said, my house is just across the street." Shouyou points with his thumb. "So if you need any help, you can come over. I also wrote my number there in your _bento_. We do food deliveries, so if you're hungry, just give us a ring, okay?" He smiles again, keeping his tone light and friendly. Food opens up even the most apprehensive of souls, doesn't it?

New Guy nods.

Shouyou's about to leave when he remembers. "Oh, hey," he says, catching New Guy as he's about to close the door. "What's your name?"

New Guy pauses. The sunlight catches his eyes just right; his irises are a shocking shade of deep blue. "Kageyama Tobio."

"Kageyama, huh? Aren't you Iwasawa Mayaka-san's son?"

Kageyama frowns. "Yes. How did you know?"

"The ol' aunties have been talking. People here talk a lot, just so you know." Shouyou beams at him. "That's great. You're one of us, then."

" _'One of us'_?"

"Well, yeah. And you should prol'ly park your car somewhere other than that tree. A lot of tree sparrows roost there. The roof of that swanky car of yours will be covered in bird poop in no time."

"Alright." Kageyama nods again and closes the door.

 _That... wasn't so bad_ , Shouyou decides, closing the door of his own home and packing the _bento_ s he needs to deliver for the rest of the day. If anything, he's now certain that the villagers painted quite an amazingly accurate picture of the odd visitor from Tokyo, which is a feat in and of itself. Kirigaya won't be pleased that Shouyou hasn't found out the reason for Kageyama’s sudden arrival, but he got to speak to the man, at least.

It rains for the latter part of the day. Shouyou gets a scolding from Grandma Eiko when he comes home, thoroughly doused from running house to house the whole afternoon without an umbrella. It offers Shouyou some form of relief, knowing his grandmother still has a perfectly healthy set of lungs.

~O~

The sun is up when Shouyou makes a quick stop to Michuzi's house and asks for some of the yellow canola flowers she's been growing in her front yard. He wants something to brighten up the spaghetti he's making, and he spotted the flowers yesterday when he was cycling home. Michuzi looks at him weirdly when he talks about what they're for, but doesn't comment on it further—the villagers have all gotten used to the strange Hinata Shouyou and his strange kitchen experiments. For the most part, they end up tasting incredible (adding _nobiru_ in _mochi_ ice cream had been unthinkable before), and Grandma would always reel him in whenever he starts veering off the far side.

Shouyou presses his shoes against the dirt path when he spots a dark figure stalking by his house. Alighting his bike, he yells, "Morning, Kageyama-san! What'cha up to?"

Kageyama stiffens before giving him a small bow. He's got the tupperware Shouyou lent him in what seems like a death grip.

Shouyou slots the bike handle at the curved wood poking out of the shed. He jogs to Kageyama's side. "Wow, thanks! I was thinking of asking for it later today—"

"The rice sweets you gave me, what was it?"

"Huh?"

"The sweets," Kageyama says, handing the tupperware to Shouyou. "What's it made of?"

"What— _ahh_! You mean, the _yatsuhashi_? You've never had one before?" Shouyou pats his jeans, feeling for his keys. "Let's see... rice flour, cinnamon, red beans, _kinako_... Think I added pepper to give it a little kick. Why? You don't like it?"

"I love it," Kageyama says, as blandly as bottled water. His dark blue eyes have taken on a bright sheen when he adds, in a grave monotone, "The bonito tasted really well. A little salty, but the eggs were good. The rice, too."

Shouyou stills as his brain tries to process the words. "Oh, really? Uh—thanks, Kageyama-san!" No one outside his family has ever openly criticized his food before. The realization jars him for a moment. "Glad you liked it! Thanks for the heads up on the bonito. I had Grandma taste my first pass and she said I skimped on the salt. Guess I overdid the one I gave you." He laughs and shrugs sheepishly. "I'll make you a better batch, next time!"

Kageyama nods. His mouth does something odd: the ends of his lips are quivering in unease, like he wants to say something, but is thinking better of it.

Shouyou fishes out his keys as he waits for the other man to say his piece. When it doesn't seem like Kageyama's going to talk, Shouyou prompts, "Anything I can help you with, Kageyama-san?"

It takes a few more seconds before Kageyama speaks, "I'm hungry."

Shouyou blinks, then takes a step closer. "Hungry?"

"Yeah."

Shouyou's eyebrows scrunch together. "You want me to make something for you?"

Kageyama scowls and nods.

Despite his better judgment, Shouyou can't help but laugh. " _Dude_ , you should have just asked me for a delivery. How long have you been waiting out here?"

Kageyama's face turns into a brilliant shade of red. "I wanted a delivery. That's why I came."

"It won't be a delivery anymore if you come to my house." Shouyou snorts and opens the shutters wide. "I thought I already gave you my number. Something wrong with your phone?”

"... Yeah."

"Really? We should go get that fixed. What if your family wants to call you? Your friends? They might worry."

"I’ll be fine," Kageyama says resolutely. "They know that as well.”

Shouyou peers at him. "Alright. Well, we don't usually feed customers here since our place is pretty small, but since you went _all this way_ , you can come right in."

"Your house is just across the street."

"I know. I was kidding." Shouyou jerks his head. "Get inside, Kageyama-san."

Shouyou presses his shoes to the side and watches Kageyama do the same. It's kind of intimidating how much Shouyou's battered sneakers dwarf in comparison to Kageyama's running shoes, and he's suddenly conscious of the fact that he's let a stranger into his home. There are only a handful of people who've been inside the Hinata residence. Even though the stigma against the Hinatas have stymied, for the most part, the villagers have been well-conditioned to steer clear of their house. Shouyou doesn't hold it against them. Myths and legends can do that to people.

"I'm home!" Shouyou announces. Then to Kageyama, he says, "It's not much, but make yourself at home."

"Sorry for intruding," Kageyama mumbles to the wooden floor. He follows Shouyou to the kitchen and sits promptly on the pillow seat.

The kitchen is the largest part of their home, but it's not the most spacious. There are steamers cramped on one of the wooden counters, and kettles on the stove. A huge wok set sits on a stone block with a compartment they can fill with charcoal. There are shelves of jars filled with all kinds of spices and condiments. Shouyou drags the stool and reaches out for a ladle hung on one of the hooks attached to the shelves.

There's a big saucepan he hasn't washed yet. Shouyou puts it aside and takes out a ceramic bowl from one of the cabinets. He makes a batter and dunks the washed flowers in it. As he stands on his toes to reach the jar of pasta from the cupboard, he says, "I'm going to make spaghetti for myself, but if you're not up for pasta, I can make something else." He turns to face Kageyama. "What's your favorite food?"

Kageyama wasn't expecting that, it seems. "My favorite?" he says, watching Shouyou carefully.

"Yeah," Shouyou cajoles. "What d’you think would be the _best_ thing to eat right now?"

When it comes to food, it seems like Kageyama Tobio doesn't keep a lot of thoughts left unsaid. In the same tone he half-harped, half-raved about Shouyou's bonito, he declares, straight away, "Pork curry with rice."

Shouyou grins. "Classic." He can make a piping good curry dish. Kageyama best be prepared.

...

It's embarrassing how much Shouyou leans over the table’s edge when Kageyama takes his first bite, but the glazed look on the other man's face dashes Shouyou's worries immediately, his cheeks warming as he watches the other man take another big bite. Still, Shouyou feels the need to ask, "Is it good?"

Kageyama doesn't answer, only quirking his thumb in response. He devours the rest of the curry in record speed.

Shouyou beams, wide enough to split his face in two. He gives Kageyama another helping, this time with two more eggs on the side. He contents himself with watching Kageyama pour the curry sauce over the eggs as he twirls the spaghetti with his fork.

"You're from Tokyo, aren't you?" Shouyou says. A firm string of noodles escapes him, and he pushes it back with his fork. "Where exactly were you from?"

"Koto."

"Ahh!" Shouyou perks. "I have a younger sister staying in Tokyo, too! Somewhere in Toshima. She's studying to be a public defender, which is like, _woah_ , right? She's definitely got all the brains in the family. If only I had a lick of her smarts, I prol'ly wouldn't have flunked high school algebra twice." Shouyou chuckles at the way Kageyama hums brokenly in response, his mouth filled with food. "Maybe all I have going for me is cooking, but that's pretty awesome, too, in my opinion."

Kageyama ignores him and shoves an obscene amount of curry into his mouth.

 _Not much of a talker, for sure_ , Shouyou thinks, almost nostalgically. Kageyama reminds him of Kenma, one of Shouyou's closest friends. Kozume Kenma was a tourist on a day trip in Kamiyama, and somehow, he got separated from the tour group. Shouyou met him along the riverside separating Shizumori and Satomori, and despite Kenma giving him monosyllabic answers to his questions, they became fast friends.

That had been six years ago. Now, Kenma's working in a start-up tech company in Shibuya. A city boy through and through.

They still keep in touch, as much as their busy lives would allow, and Kenma seems to be doing well. Shouyou hasn't had the chance to come up to Tokyo; the train tickets are crazy expensive, and Kenma usually offers to drop by. He wonders how Tokyo would be like, if it would be entirely different from his imagination, from just seeing it on television and in magazines. Natsu often complained about how she hardly had any time for herself, but Shouyou hadn't missed the gleam in her eyes whenever she talked about the places she's been to, the interesting people she's met. The food she's eaten.

 _"It's an entirely different culture, onii-chan!"_ Natsu exclaimed once, during her visits. _"Some of the street food were just so_ weird _! You'd like it there!"_

 _"Man, I'd raid every single stall in Ginza if I were you. I'm so jealous,"_ Shouyou said.

_"I wish you could be there, too!"_

_"We can't take Grandma around Tokyo, though. I'll have to keep an eye on her here. And I can't close the store for more than a few days. Some of 'em old timers can't cook, you know."_

Natsu had a particularly put out look on her face that time. _"I know all that, of course!"_ she replied. _"I just really wish you could."_

Shouyou sighs inwardly and shakes his head. _What if_ s are something that he tries not to dwell upon, lest he draws himself to stranger waters. He's not a kid anymore.

He gives the raven-haired man another serving. At this rate, Kageyama's going to end up eating an entire batch made for a family of six.

Munching quietly, Kageyama has the sleeves of his sweater bunched up to his elbows, and it makes for a good show of his forearms. He has those long, lean lines that Shouyou has only ever seen in men in gym adverts, and he looks on at his guest with envy. Yokohito was right—there's really got to be _something_ in Tokyo. Kageyama’s insanely hot for a guy, and Kenma's no slouch either.

Plus—Shouyou realizes with a wince—Natsu's grown to be a pretty lady as well, all the while retaining the fiery hair and matching confident swagger that made her famous in Satomori. What if she's getting bombarded by a mob of feral city boys? What if she brings home one of them? Is there some kind of protocol Shouyou should know, about little sisters introducing their boyfriends to the household? He probably won't be intimidating enough to deter any unworthy suitors. Definitely not like Kagayema, who's got that towering stature and scary, sharp glare in spades.

Belatedly, he notices Kageyama staring at him as hard as Shouyou’s been ogling. He coughs awkwardly, caught. "Do you want more?" he asks.

Kageyama raises his spoon. "Did you put any dairy in this?"

"Well, yeah." Shouyou pulls back from his seat. "I added yogurt. A few dollops of it. How did you know?"

"I tasted it."

Shouyou quirks an eyebrow. "You did? Tasted it?"

"Yes."

Recalling Kageyama's quip about the grilled fish, Shouyou gapes. "Wow. You must've got some absolutely _awesome_ taste buds, Kageyama-san! How much I'd kill for that." He whistles in awe. "I thought only Grandma can tell most of the time. What are you, some kind of five-star chef or something?" Do chefs in Tokyo get paid enough to have million-yen cars?

Kageyama's eyes disappear behind his bangs. "Um, no. I can't cook much." He stares blankly at his almost empty plate, trying to curl up like smoke.

Shouyou thinks he's seen a dog do the exact same thing yesterday. Nagisa-san's mastiff, a gigantic dog, by all means, had twined its legs close as it slept on a patch of grass, protecting its tummy.

Shouyou feels his face soften. "Mhmmm, that's fine! I only learned 'cause of Gran—and there's loads of things you can try out here, obviously! Plus everybody's pretty much self-sufficient." He goes for a smirk, shark-like. "You city folks can't last a day without all 'em 7-Elevens and all-day chicken deliveries, can you?"

Kageyama turns his head up to stare at him, cold and piercing. A shiver runs down Shouyou's spine. "I'll survive more than a week."

"Ahh, _really_?"

Kageyama narrows his eyes at Shouyou. "Of course," he says, his back straightening.

Shouyou grins. "Stay as long as you like, then, Kageyama-san." He stretches his numbing legs before standing up and peering at the iron pot on the stove. There's still some curry left. "Hey, you want to finish the rest of this?"

Kageyama dutifully holds out his plate.

~O~

The next morning, he finds Kageyama in front of his house, standing under the shade of a tree. Shouyou gets excited. Maybe Kageyama wants to do something with him today. Or maybe (he thinks, deflating) Kageyama just wants to borrow something. A shaving kit? A pair of scissors? Shouyou could give him directions to the town barber. Kageyama's fringe is longer than it should be, shielding his eyes half the time. "Good morning, Kageyama-san!"

Kageyama snaps his gaze towards him. He takes stock of the heavy bag slung over Shouyou's back, but remains quiet.

"What are you doing out here?" Shouyou asks. "Anything I can help you with?"

Kageyama's now staring at something over Shouyou's shoulder. He seems—embarrassed, about something. "I forgot to thank you for the meal. It was delicious."

 _Oh. That's all?_ "No problem, Kageyama-san. Anytime." Shouyou waits for Kageyama to say anything else, but that's going to be it, apparently. The chirping of the sparrows signal the upcoming noon. Shouyou's going to be late for deliveries. "I'll see you later, then?"

Kageyama mumbles a quick, "Yeah."

Shouyou lifts open the truck door and dumps the bag. When he turns, Kageyama is still there. Most of his face is covered in shadow, but there are pinpricks of sunshine brushing his cheeks and the side of his jaw, light streaming from the tiny gaps between the leaves and branches.

There's almost a regal quality in the way Kageyama walks and stands. The unease on his face doesn't suit him.

Shouyou finds himself asking, "Do you have anything to do today?"

The question seems to shake Kageyama out of his trance. "No," he replies, bemused.

"Sweet." Shouyou pulls down the door with a metallic screech. "You want a tour of the town or nah?"

The response isn't as immediate as Shouyou would have liked, but at least Kageyama responds with, "Okay."

...

They're driving to the fifth house in Shouyou's list. Fujita-san's home is by the rice paddies, southeast of the river. In their backyard, watercress grows in bundles in the ditches of a stream, and they sometimes call Shouyou to harvest them for himself. In return, Shouyou bakes them carrot cakes and potato bread during the spring.

Shouyou drives at half the speed he usually does and keeps the windows down, ignoring the chilly wind nipping at his nose and eyelids. He sneaks glances at Kageyama, who's got his gaze trained outside, a serene expression on his face. Shouyou smiles to himself and does a fist pump in triumph.

They’ve got a good view. The pink and blue hydrangeas are in full bloom, shaded by the cherry trees and snowbells growing at the sides of the road. Whenever there's a breeze, the irises sway, their lush leaves and azure petals trembling in synchrony.

Shouyou likes this side of the village, where the mountains congregate and the streams form shallow pools, with a grassy path just wide enough for his bike to pass through. It's one of the mystical places in Satomori. He swears he can hear the goddess of the mountain calling to him whenever he passes. He sometimes imagines the wild plants growing as he takes each step, the stems curling softly around his ankles. The idea grounds him whenever he feels like he's floating away.

"We're here," Shouyou announces, stepping on the brake when they reach the front of the stone house. He steps out of the truck and gestures for Kageyama to do the same. He opens the back and takes the package out from the thermal bag, a black disposable container labelled _Fujita_. "I'm just going to give this to 'em quick, but they might invite me to their home for a while if Kentaro-san's here. Would you like me to introduce you?"

"Alright," Kageyama says, frowning at the house with trepidation.

Shouyou stops at the footpath and yells, "Kenji-san!", at the man in a bandana, knees-deep in the rice fields.

The man looks up. " _Oi_! Shouyou!" he shouts, waving. Then he calls out towards the house, "Ma! Pa! Shouyou's here!"

The door shutters open, revealing an elderly woman in a flowing cotton dress. "My, my!" Fujita Michiko smiles warmly at them. "If isn't this my favorite grandson in the entire world? What did you bring us today, Shou-kun?"

" _Sashimi_. Loads of 'em!" Shouyou grins. "And I got you potato buns and butter to last you for a week."

"Sounds lovely! You've really grown the habit of spoiling us, Shou-kun. And who is this young man?" Michiko asks as Kageyama bows lowly.

Shouyou bumps Kageyama's shoulder with the back of his hand. "This is Kageyama Tobio. He came in a few days ago, and I'm showing him around town. He's Iwasawa Mayaka's son."

"Ahh, Mayaka-chan!" Michiko presses her palms together and bows. "I haven't heard of that name in a long time. Brings back memories. Come, come! Kentaro would love to see you two! And I'll get my wallet to pay you. Kenji! Come greet your friend!"

Michiko ushers them to the _tatami_ room. One of the sidewalls is affixed with shelves of _kokeshi_ and _daruma_ —wooden dolls, symbolizing perseverance and good luck—all neatly aligned. It smells of barley, steamed corn and apple cider.

The two of them sit in front of the table, tucking their legs.

A man with a shocking bush of white hair enters the room. "Ahh, Shouyou! You're here already. I just finished fixing the woodhouse." The man, Fujita Kentaro, sits cross-legged in front of them. "My wife's still brewing tea. How are you?"

"Still amazing," Shouyou says, flicking his thumb up. Both Kentaro and Shouyou laugh. "Kentaro-san, this is Kageyama Tobio. I'm showing him around. He's Iwasawa Mayaka's son."

Kentaro grunts appreciatively at Kageyama's bow. "Oh, you're an Iwasawa, eh? Your grandad was one of my buddies in high school! He was a good fella, if you keep him outta the wine cellar. Liked to drink too much in the winter." He then nods. "You have your mother's eyes. Definitely an Iwasawa."

"Thank you," Kageyama says.

"Where are you from, Kageyama-san?"

"Miyagi."

"Sendai?"

"Yes. But I moved to Tokyo for work a few years ago."

"Tokyo, eh? Huh. I thought 'em Tokyo folks have no meat behind 'em thin onion skins, but you look like a strong fella. Ever killed a wild boar with those hands, kid?"

"Um, no, I haven't."

Shouyou fails to muffle his snickers behind his palm. Kageyama glares at him.

"Kentaro, shush! Stop putting the poor kid on the spot." Michiko sits beside her husband, placing several tiny cups of tea on the table. "I apologize for my husband. He can be very uncouth."

"Er, no, it's fine," Kageyama says.

Shouyou laughs even more. "Don't worry 'bout it, Kentaro-san! Kageyama will definitely handle your pesky boar problem. Won't you, Kageyama-san?"

Kageyama’s eyes snap to meet his. " _What?_ "

Shouyou sits up straight. "You can just _grrr_ —" He scowls and strikes a pose, doing his best impression of Kageyama. "—at 'em whenever they come down from the forest. It’ll probably work." To the Fujitas, he says, "Kageyama-san does that a lot. Amazingly."

The Fujitas laugh out loud when Kageyama plants his fist on Shouyou's waist.

"We've had rogue boars killing our chickens since two years ago. It's been quite a hassle getting them to stay away," Michiko explains to Kageyama. "We've tried everything, but there's definitely more than one of them. We've resigned to having about a third of our chickens getting taken every summer and autumn."

"We might stop raising chickens at some point," Kentaro says. "But who knows what the god of prosperity will bring? We'll continue until time tells us to stop."

Kenji, their forty-six year old son, joins them, greeting Kageyama and Shouyou with a jovial smile. They drink tea and enjoy the potato buns Shouyou brought, reheated in the traditional-style oven. When it's time for them to go, Kentaro and Michiko hand Shouyou and Kageyama jars of mugworts and a bowl of _shishi nabe_. This time, Shouyou manages to bite back a laugh at Kageyama's flushed face.

"They're nice, aren't they?" Shouyou says as they get in the truck. "A lot of Satomori residents are friendly like that. But they're one of the warmest ones."

Kageyama makes a short, low noise from the back of his throat. An accession.

Shouyou grins as he shifts the gear and looks onward. The spot where Kageyama hit him aches dully; his strange companion isn't the type to hold back, apparently, and Shouyou quite likes that.

~O~

"Are you hungry, Kageyama-san?"

Kageyama glances at him. Shouyou makes sure to keep his expression open.

"Yes," Kageyama responds after a while. His fingers twitch at his side.

 _Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Shouyou. Gotta stay patient _.__ Not everyone will be as amiable as Inouka and Kogane. They might even be the exception rather than the rule. Shouyou tries not to take offense.

"I live with my grandmother, by the way." Shouyou slides the shutters. "She was asleep the last time you came, but I think she's awake now. She's very nice and friendly, like me, so just go and say hi."

"Okay."

"Don't look so distressed." Shouyou laughs, slapping Kageyama's back. "I'll be right there with you."

Kageyama grumbles, "I'm not distressed," but keeps an eye out for any movement in the house. Shouyou chuckles even more.

The curtains to the bedroom slink wide. "Shouyou, is that you?"

"Hiya, Gran! Need a massage? A stretcher?"

Grandma Eiko scoffs. "You treat me like I'm over a hundred, for gods' sake. Who's your friend?"

"Kageyama-san, say hi! Gran, this is Kageyama Tobio. The guy from Tokyo who's staying at the house in front of ours."

Recognition lights Grandma's face. "Ahh, you're Mayaka's son?"

"Yes," Kageyama replies.

"How is your mother doing? Your father?"

"They're in Sendai. They’re doing well."

"Good, good. Well, I'm delighted to have an Iwasawa here in our home. Have you eaten, boy?"

"Not yet."

Grandma gives Shouyou the stink-eye. "Hinata Shouyou! I believe your father and I taught you more than enough about hospitality."

Surprisingly, Kageyama quickly comes to his defense. "He was going to cook me something, ma'am," he says.

Grandma sniffs, slightly mollified. "Alright, then. Make yourself at home." She beckons her grandson to come with her to the kitchen. "Let's whip something tasty and nutritious for the young gentleman. Heavens, he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks!"

Shouyou lets out a low hum as he brandishes a knife and a cutting board. He gets potatoes, carrots and onion leaves and chops them. "Is he sick, you think?" he whispers.

Grandma seems to ponder about it. "His aura looks messy. Confused. Gray. Not ideal for a man of his age."

"Hmmm." Shouyou pours fish stock in the pot and brings it to a simmer. He and Grandma resume their cooking without conversation, the occasional clanging of the ladle against the pot filling in the silence for them. Once in a while, Shouyou lightly bumps his hips with his grandmother's. Grandma retaliates by pressing her bony finger on Shouyou's forehead.

Shouyou stews the pork before adding the sliced vegetables. He puts three tablespoons of curry powder into the _tempura_ batter. He dumps the _shiitake_ mushrooms in the batter then dips them one by one in the fryer. While the oil sizzles, he peers over his grandmother's shoulder. "What are you making, Gran?"

 _ _"_ Iwana_ over steamed rice." She slices the fish cleanly in half.

"With your special sweet soy sauce?"

Grandma smiles at him, all crooked teeth. "That's the one."

After finishing the _tonjiru_ and the _shiitake_ curry chips, Shouyou heads to the living room. He finds Kageyama eyeing the collection of photos of him, Natsu, his father and his grandmother, set on the wooden mantel.

"Sorry for the wait. Chew on these first," Shouyou says, serving their guest soup and chips. He then hurries back to the kitchen and helps Grandma make the main dish by chopping the ginger and chili peppers into thin slices.

"Put in a little more chili," Grandma instructs him. "Your friend likes spicy dishes."

Shouyou laughs under his breath. "Okay, okay." He adds and adds until he gets Grandma’s grunt of approval. Now there's an obscene amount of chili as the meal's garnish. Kageyama's sensitive taste buds might shrivel after this, but Hinata Eiko has never been wrong, especially about food or cooking.

When they're done, Grandma hangs back her daisy-yellow apron.

"Wait. You're not joining us?" Shouyou asks.

Grandma laughs lightly. "You don't need me to hold up your end of the conversation, do you?" She waves her hand. "Go and be where you should be, my sweet. I'll get some rest."

"Oh." Shouyou frowns. "Okay, then. Goodnight, Gran!"

"Goodnight, Shouyou."

...

Shouyou heads back to the living room. The curry chips have almost disappeared, much to his amusement. He places the soy-glazed _iwana_ at the center of the table. " _Tada_! Sorry for the wait."

"It was nothing," Kageyama mumbles. "I didn't wait long." He looks ready to pounce on the fish.

Shouyou sits in front of him and urges, "Dig in, dig in."

Kageyama clacks his chopsticks on the table. "Thank you for the meal." He halves the fish and, with the rice, sticks the seasoned meat in his mouth. He then makes a funny noise that echoes in the room.

"You like it?" Shouyou says, bouncing on the padded chair. At Kageyama's frantic nod, Shouyou beams, warmth spreading across his chest.

He wonders what Kageyama had been doing in Tokyo. He looks healthy, but perhaps his job in the city was stressful, his meals weren't as fulfilling. According to Grandma, this man's aura is _gray_. What kind of place would change a person enough to possess such a thing?

When Shouyou is done with his own portion, he asks, "Say, Kageyama-san, how old are you?"

Kageyama swallows. "Twenty-seven."

"Really? We're the same age!" Shouyou gasps. "When's your birthday?"

"December twenty-second."

"What the heck, I'm older?" That was unexpected.

"When's your birthday?"

"It's in June! June twenty-first!" Shouyou slaps his knee. "Oh, jeez. I've been wasting my breath trying to be so formal around you, then, Kageyama-kun."

Kageyama snorts. "I wouldn't exactly say _formal_..." He's gained a bit of color now: his eyes are bright and his cheeks are rosy, unlike this morning when he seemed like only a step away from death.

Shouyou sniggers. "Well, you're not making it easy." He leans his elbow on the edge of the table. "How'd you find Satomori so far?"

Kageyama takes a drink. Stalling. He then replies, "It's fine." His lips curl in serious thought. "I didn't know a lot of people remembered my mom. Everyone's very... friendly. It's a little—"

"Exciting?"

"... Disorienting."

"Oh."

"It's not terrible," Kageyama says hastily. "It's just—something to get used to."

Shouyou nods. That's better than disliking it, he supposes. "Everybody knows everybody around here. I guess that might be a bit weird, for a city guy like you. Trust me, though! No one's going to, like, _murder_ you, or whatever." He puffs out his chest. "I may not look like it, but I'm the youngest member of our town hall council."

Kageyama blinks. "What's that?"

"It's a group of people that makes decisions for the village. Important ones."

"Ahh. So?"

" _So,_ you've got nothing to worry about." Shouyou pours more water in his glass and munches on the remaining mushroom chips. "You can stay here as long as you'd like, and as long as I'm here, no one's going to bother you. Everyone can be your friend."

"As long as I'd like, huh." Kageyama turns his face away. "How much should I pay for the meal?"

"What?" Shouyou says. "Nothing! I invited you here!"

Kageyama's mouth downturns even more. "That... doesn't seem fair."

"Not fair how?" Shouyou says, a little miffed. "I feed you, you keep me company. S'pretty fair if you look at it that way."

Kageyama turns silent, conflicted about something Shouyou can't make out yet.

Shouyou sighs and beats him to the punch: "If you say anything more stupid, I'm going to make all of your food taste like the Pacific seabed."

"I wasn't going to, dumbass," Kageyama mutters, and then his expression contorts into something weird, something _hilarious_. Shouyou can't help but laugh at the sight of it.

 _That's more like it_. Shouyou stands. "Do you drink?"

Kageyama shakes his head.

 _Man, what kind of twenty-seven year old would not even drink?_ "Well, too bad!" Shouyou smirks and waggles his eyebrows. "If you're going to stay here for a while, then you'll have to practice. If Hayase-san gets his hands on you, you'll be a goner." He mercilessly ignores Kageyama's wails of protest as he marches to the shed.

~O~

Dawn has barely broken when Shouyou's alarm goes off. He yawns, scratching his tummy, before crawling out of his _futon_. He changes into his parachute pants and long-sleeved plaid shirt. He splashes cold water on his face, a surefire way to rouse him completely.

It's cold when he steps out of the house, but not brisk like it would be on a regular winter morning. The sky is colored with blue and pink hues, turning almost purple when paired against the sweeping cottony clouds. Away above the treetops, a bush warbler sings, signaling a new day. Shouyou can feel the distant wilderness stirring.

He makes his way through the pale-lit paths in silence until he arrives at the starting point where he has to trek to the shrine. There he meets Toya-san, the _tatami_ mat maker. She greets Shouyou with a huge smile on her kind, aged face.

"You're here alone again," Toya says. "Next time, Shou-kun, come to my house first so I can accompany you. Or whenever my blasted knees are up for the job."

Shouyou bows and grins at her. "I should be the one saying that, Toya-san!"

"No matter! Us young 'uns have to stick together." She winks, and Shouyou laughs under his breath. "You were with the young Iwasawa the last time you delivered food to my house. How is he, dare I ask?"

"Oh, Kageyama? He's great! He can be a bit of a di—I mean, _abrasive_. But overall, he's a pretty good guy." Shouyou crosses his arms and huffs. "He said he doesn't drink, but I think he's lying. We drank together a few days ago and he got me out of commission pretty fast." The morning after, Shouyou woke up in his own bed, covered with thick blankets. He had no idea how he got there. Perhaps he sleepwalked. He does that sometimes.

Toya hums. "Eh? That's impressive. With how you barbarians drink in this town, he'll fit right in. Why did he come to Satomori in the first place? Did he say?"

"Ahh, that." Kageyama did mention something about it, from what Shouyou can retrieve from the hazy recesses in his mind. That night, by the time he was nursing his third bottle of _shochu_ , Shouyou wasn’t able to make much sense of Kageyama's words.

 _"You drove all the way south from Tokyo? In all that frosty rain?"_ Shouyou said, leaning the side of his face against the cool glass. _"You could have died!"_

Kageyama replied placidly, _"_ _Well, I didn't. Who fucking cares, though? I'm here now."_

 _"Your friends,"_ Shouyou riposted. _"Your family._ I _care. Obviously. So don't drive stupidly, stupid."_

Kageyama sniffed at him. _"You're stupid. That wouldn't be obvious at all,"_ he said before downing another bottle.

_"So?"_

_"So what?"_

_"Why did you come here?"_

Kageyama shrugged and drank again. When he finished, he uttered, _"I was hungry."_

Shouyou asked again, thinking he misheard, _"What?"_

 _"I was hungry,"_ Kageyama repeated. At Shouyou's disbelieving stare, he snorted and rolled his eyes. _"I'm serious, dumbass."_

 _"Huh,"_ Shouyou muttered, deciding to take Kageyama's words at face value. _"And you can't cook. No one who lives with you can?"_

_"I live alone."_

Shouyou chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn't know what he expected, exactly—maybe he was expecting something exciting, like Kageyama Tobio was some A-list actor who had a crazy scandal with a co-star and was waiting for it to blow off. Or something. Not that it mattered anymore. Kageyama's right. He's here now, wasn't he?

That intense feeling of hunger, at least, was something Shouyou could greatly relate to. _"You came to the right place. I can cook for you lots, then."_

Shouyou swore he saw Kageyama's ears went pink at the tips. _"Good,"_ Kageyama mumbled, and Shouyou smiled at that, satisfied.

"Shou-kun?"

"Ahh!" Shouyou exclaims, Toya's voice breaking him out of his thoughts. "He didn't exactly say, but I'll keep on showing him around. Get him to know the place. He might not be staying long, but maybe he'll like it enough to talk about us with his friends in Tokyo. Who knows?"

"Who knows?" Toya parrots. "Maybe he'll like it enough to come back once in a while." She starts to pad in the opposite direction, waving at him goodbye.

"Maybe." Shouyou bows and sees her off.

...

A thin layer of sweat makes the ends of Shouyou's shirt stick to his back. Coupled with the breeze and low humidity, the sensation feels soothing rather than uncomfortable on his overheated skin. The climb all throughout was relaxing and uneventful that his thoughts kept on drifting, meandering.

When he arrives at the small, wooded, wayside shrine, Shouyou's body moves as if on autopilot. He bows twice, whispers a thanks and a fervent wish to the gods, claps twice and bows again.

There used to be a century-old black pine tree that grew in this very spot, only to be struck down by lightning from a huge storm around forty years ago, long before Shouyou was born. Only the wide stump of the tree remains. Shouyou's father was one of the men who cut the tree down and made a shrine out of its wood. Currently, some of the villagers and a handful of tourists brave the winding footpath to come to this place, as pilgrimage or as a byway venue to clear their thoughts.

Shouyou used to come here with his father until he died under mysterious circumstances. Hinata Mahiro was a farmer who worked part-time as a mountain guide, taking photos for tourists who wanted a view of themselves standing before the gorges during the autumn season, the golden leaves a wonderful, scenic backdrop. Then one day, at the cusp of winter, Mahiro hadn’t come down from the mountains. Shouyou and Natsu waited every day by the doorstep, until Yokohito and the council deemed it wise to declare Mahiro gone, and it was time for Natsu to leave for university. His father lived a fruitful life, albeit a shorter one than expected.

Despite all that, Shouyou wakes up early and climbs the mountains at least once a month.

 _Nature does what it should, and it doesn't sway or quiver at a mere mortal's rage_. It’s one of the adages the villagers always say. Shouyou agrees, to a certain degree. The mountains can be one of his closest confidants, if he wants it to be. He hopes, if he comes by often enough, he'll be done feeling angry and hurt.

"I've met so many people here," he realizes, whispering to himself, as he stands near the edge of the gully, looking down at Satomori in all its listless, hazy splendor. He's said so many hellos here, but just as many farewells. There are times when Shouyou gets flooded with memories—quick, unexpected, and filled with color. He can recall the conversations he's had with people long gone, and is astonished to find they have remained so close to his heart. Whenever he looks yonder, at the fields, at the houses, at the mountainside, the landscape lights up with their faces, and it makes him feel a little less alone.

He stares after the great expanse of blue under the rising sun, and remembers Kageyama's eyes. He thinks of how they catch some of the sunlight the same way the streams could, and mirror them back, just enough, that Shouyou can see something there. A bit of apprehension, a bit of guilt. A bit of loneliness, too.

"I wish you'd stay for a while," Shouyou says to the passing breeze. He hasn't made a new friend for quite a long time, and he's been getting rather antsy, having no one of his age to talk to. He must admit, Kageyama Tobio makes for good company, most of the time.

~O~

He bumps into a familiar face when he passes the forked road leading to Shizumori. "Morning, Kageyama-kun!" Shouyou yells.

He hadn't expected Kageyama to stop running. Kageyama gives him a once-over, before jogging to his side of the road. His hair is wet with perspiration, making his fringe a thick mat over his forehead, and the sleeves of his royal blue windbreaker clings to his toned arms. Sweat drips all over his black running shoes. "What?" Kageyama says.

"What?" Shouyou tells him back.

Kageyama levels him with a stare. "Were you going to say something?

"Huh? No. I just said good morning."

"Oh. Okay."

"Were you running around the village just now?" Shouyou smiles at the thought of a sweaty Kageyama sprinting along the village square in those shorts and compression pants. The village ladies must have been pleased. "Not a lot of folks do that here anymore." He then purses his lips. Maybe he should start running too, put more mileage on his legs.

"Weren't you getting a head start, too?" Kageyama says. "You look sweaty and dirty."

"That's not such a nice thing to say, Kageyama-kun." Shouyou points to the mountains. "I was up there visiting a shrine. I do that sometimes."

Kageyama follows his gaze, his expression considering. "That's also a good form of exercise," he mutters.

Shouyou chuckles. "I'll let you tag along next time," he says. This picky, frowny guy seems to be enthused at the idea of hiking across treacherous mountain trails for a couple of fitness points. Maybe Kageyama's head has no space except for food and workout regimens.

Instead of scurrying off to continue his run, Kageyama decides to walk by his side, much to Shouyou’s surprise again. He’s inwardly glad. He didn't want to say goodbye yet. He's had no one and nothing but his thoughts for company for most of the morning.

Kageyama isn't the best conversationalist, but Shouyou has always known, intuitively, how to pick up the threads of a conversation. He talks about inconsequential stuff, like how many customers today asked him to deliver soy chicken, and about the Jin family's swimming pool. He talks about the people Kageyama doesn't know personally, but he's nonetheless determined to make the other man meet. Kageyama doesn't react much, but Shouyou can tell that he's listening.

When the wind blows hard again, petals of the azaleas start to color the dirt path ahead of them. Kageyama watches the sight, unblinking.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Shouyou says. "I bet you'll only see that kind of stuff here in spring."

"We have that too in Tokyo. There are cherry blossoms everywhere," Kageyama says. "Even in Sendai, where I... where I grew up in." His words became hushed.

Shouyou clicks his tongue. "Even so! It's a different kind of pretty here."

Kageyama looks ahead. "I guess." He scratches his neck. "I suppose it smells different too."

"Like cow dung?"

Kageyama's mouth quirks. "A little. I was going to say it smelled like—earth. The good kind. I'm probably not making sense—"

"Nah, I get what you mean," Shouyou says with a mild laugh. "It smells _warm_ , you know, if warmth had a smell."

"Don't sound too proud."

" _Ha!_ You just wouldn't know the feeling, city boy, so I'll let this one go for now."

Kageyama glances down at him and snorts. They then settle into a comfortable silence as they walk home.

~O~

After hacking timber and restocking the woodhouse, Shouyou comes back to the kitchen to prepare deliveries alongside his grandmother. The two of them work in a practiced rhythm; Shouyou cuts the vegetables, meat and spices, while Grandma tastes and seasons the main dishes, stirring the pot occasionally. The phone rings; it's another order from one of Yokohito's children: "Eggplant _tempura_ and loads of _sushi_ , please, Shouyou-nii san!" Shouyou hangs up with a laugh and proceeds to deep fry another batch.

He pours _miso_ in different cylindrical containers and seals them tight. He gingerly places all the packed lunches in separate canvas bags before settling them inside the black thermal one.

Once he's done, he tells Grandma he'll be setting off. "Bye, Gran!" He slings the bag over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon!"

"Shouyou!"

"Yes?"

"Don't worry about coming home in time for dinner. Why don't you go out for a while?"

Shouyou pauses at the doorstep. "Why?"

Grandma meets his eyes and smiles. "Don't you want to be somewhere else for today?" she asks.

"I..." A lump forms in Shouyou's throat. Sometimes, _sometimes_ , his grandmother's gift makes things a lot more complicated than Shouyou wants it to be. "No, Gran, I'm just..."

"You're not some seventy year old geezer, Shouyou."

"I know."

"I want you to stay out _late_." Grandma opens the tap and scrapes sauce off the ladle with her finger. "Whatever you do, don't come back before the sun has set. Okay?"

"What about you?" Shouyou says. A wave of anxiousness hits him from out of nowhere, and he tries not to let it show. It takes a lot of effort.

Grandma's stern gaze becomes gentle. "Oh, come now, my sweet. I'll be here when you come back. Always," she says. "Go out there and have fun."

"Alright," Shouyou reluctantly lets out.

Grandma turns her back and begins cleaning the dishes, effectively ending the conversation.

...

When Kageyama opens the door, Shouyou almost bursts into cheer. He wants to laugh at how nervous he is. He tells himself he's not doing anything wrong by asking, so he does: "Hey, Kageyama-kun. Are you free?"

Kageyama's eyebrows scrunch together. "Why?"

"I'm gonna go around town, make deliveries. I just thought you'd like to come." Shouyou hopes he didn't sound too expectant. Last time, Kageyama didn't seem all too comfortable, especially when some of the villagers started showing interest in him.

But Kageyama agrees, just like last time, and Shouyou is overtaken with joy and relief; it hits him like a wall, making him exhale soundly as they head to the truck. Kageyama glances at him, but thankfully doesn't comment.

Shouyou turns on the engine and lets the windows down. He brings the speed to a balmy seventy kilometers, just enough to feel a good kind of breeze on his face. He fiddles with the radio controls. "What kind of music do you like?"

"It's fine," Kageyama says. "You pick."

Shouyou turns to the station that broadcasts funky eighties music every Sundays. He sets the volume to low, just in case.

They start approaching that side of town where the huge houses are far away from each other and separated by parcels of green land; these fields that stretched almost endlessly used to be sugar cane farms that sustained Satomori in the early fifties.

"Hey, you see 'em old houses over there?" Shouyou says. There's one over three stories high, surrounded by trees with thick, green foliage about a few meters taller. "They're really _old_. The people who live there are like that, too. They used to be sugar farmers, but since the land wasn't great anymore for sugar canes to grow, they switched to planting rice. There's only one sugar farming family left in Satomori, and we're going to them right now."

"You seem excited," Kageyama observes.

"Well, yeah," Shouyou says. "The Sekimukais are _awesome_. It'd be great if you get to meet 'em."

"Why?"

Shouyou risks a look at him. "Hmm?"

Kageyama seems to be weighing his words carefully. "Why me? Why do you want me to go with you?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you have friends?"

It's a hallmark of maturity that Shouyou doesn't deck him for that question. "I do, but the guys who are the same age as us—they're away now, if you haven't noticed. They're all living in the cities where they could have well-paying jobs and raise families. The friend who lives closest to where we are is Izumi, and his house is two hours away by truck.

"Besides," Shouyou continues. "I thought you could use some sun. Holing yourself in the dark won't do you any good, Kageyama-kun."

"I—" Kageyama halts. He traces the rubber window trim with his finger. "I don't do well under bright lights. Makes my head hurt."

"Why?"

"I... I don't know."

"Hmmm." Kageyama seems to be in a perpetual state of confusion, just like Grandma said. Uncertainty, frustration and hunger, with a hint of something else underneath. Shouyou can't tell what it is, but it makes his stomach churn unpleasantly. What he does know is that he doesn't like the idea of Kageyama all alone in that big house. "Okay, so... you don't want to go around town? Or do you? You can be honest with me, you know. I won't get mad." He quirks an eyebrow. "So do you or do you not?"

"I do."

"Is it just the sun, then? Or is it me?"

Kageyama sighs. "It's not your job to entertain me while I'm here. You're not my tour guide."

"I know that." Shouyou digs his thumb at the sore spot on his shoulder. "It's not a job, silly. I just like showing you around." Without thinking, he bumps his fist against Kageyama's arm. "It's more for my benefit than yours, really."

Kageyama stills and turns quiet again.

"How about this?" Shouyou starts. "I bring you food whenever you want—no charge—and you just have to keep me company once in a while. You're free to say no, of course! How about it?"

 _Selfish._ Shouyou tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He's being unabashedly selfish, he knows.

Kageyama mulls it over for around half a minute. "I'll keep your offer in mind," he says, so quietly, that Shouyou almost doesn't hear.

Shouyou nibbles on his lower lip. He decides to go for broke: "I must miss being around people. People my age. The townspeople are great, but I guess it's not the same." It’s probably strange to feel lonely when you have so many folks around you, though Shouyou refrains from sharing that particular thought out loud. "Apparently, my grandmother thinks so, too. She doesn't want me to have dinner with her, can you believe it? S'kinda humiliating. Maybe she thinks I've been hovering around her too much lately."

Kageyama remains silent, and Shouyou shrugs as he takes a right at a junction. "So I guess I'll be staying out tonight," he adds. "Eat somewhere. Do you want to come with?"

"Okay."

"Thanks," Shouyou says, sincere. He then laughs. "It's always better to let my grandmother have her way. Bad things seem to happen when I ignore what she says."

"Like what?" Kageyama appears to be humoring him. Shouyou cracks a smile, appreciating the gesture.

"You haven't heard? My family's _magical_. No, seriously, I'm not kidding!" Shouyou says at Kageyama's full-throttle death stare. "We really are! I mean, all the Hinata women have some kind of special thing. Not like a _fuwaaahh_ kind of superpower. You know?"

It all goes over Kageyama's head, with the way he's looking at Shouyou. "Like reading minds?" he says, tentatively.

Shouyou shakes his head vigorously. "No, no! It's not _fuwaahhh_ , like I said. Gran just has this weird thing where she can tell where everything belongs. My dad and I used to drive her up the wall, putting the chopsticks and aluminum trays in the wrong drawers. Oh, man, this was crazy—there was this one time in high school, see? She gave me a safety pin, and she just said, 'for school', all sneaky-like. The next day, I went to class and all my classmates were snickering behind me, then at lunch one of my friends told me that my fly was open. The zipper broke at some point in the morning, so I really had to use the safety pin. S'was _incredible_!"

Kageyama seems to accept that without further explanation. "Doesn't that mean she can see the future?" he questions, his expression thoughtful.

"Well, she says she doesn't see anything. She just gets this— _nagging feeling_ , or whatever. I don't know how else to describe it. I'm just saying what she says."

"So she can't read minds? Or lift heavy weights?"

"Nope! Just something useful day-to-day."

"But you don't have it."

"I don't," Shouyou admits. "But it's not like I need to, right? I'm already special enough as it is."

"You hold a ridiculous amount of self-belief in such a tiny body." Kageyama manages to sound both annoyed and impressed.

"You know what they say, Kageyama-kun. What else can we have if not belief?" Shouyou makes a stop. "We're here!"

They park in front of the rustic house with a spacious patio and a pond in the yard. Once they enter the gate, two kids come bounding across the exposed-aggregate concrete.

Sekimukai Mika latches onto Shouyou's pant leg. "Shou-chan! You're late!" she says. "We just saw a raccoon dog and you _missed_ it!"

"Yeah! We wanted to hold it down so you could see it, but we were afraid it'd bite us," Kashou, Mika's older brother, explains, pushing his glasses back from sliding off his nose.

Shouyou grins. "I've already seen a _thousand_ raccoon dogs, but thanks for thinking of me! I won't be late next time." He then warns, "Don't go catching raccoon dogs by yourselves. They really could bite you."

Mika notices the gloomy presence behind Shouyou. She tugs on Shouyou's pants once again.

Shouyou pats her shoulder in reassurance. "This is my friend, Kageyama Tobio. He's from Tokyo. Isn't that cool?"

"Tokyo?" Kashou gazes at Kageyama warily. "The huge city up north?"

"Yeah!" To Kageyama, Shouyou says, "Kageyama, this is Sekimukai Kashou and Mika. They're younger siblings of a good friend of mine in elementary school. Koji-kun's working in Nagoya now." He elbows the other man. "Aren't they cute or what?"

Instead of responding to that, Kageyama bows at the children. "Nice to meet you."

Shouyou stoops to Mika's height. "Go on, say hi," he whispers to her ear. "He's new here, so he's shy. Are you shy?"

Mika eyes him defiantly. "Why would I be shy?"

Shouyou chuckles. She's made of sterner stuff. Definitely Koji's little sister. "Go on, then."

Mika stands in front of Kageyama, and they have a stare-off. Suddenly, Kageyama crouches until the two of them are eye-level. His lips quirk to one side in a tiny smile.

Shouyou sees the exact moment Mika unfurls. She grins back and places her hand on Kageyama's knee cap. "Have you seen a raccoon dog before?"

"Not a lot," Kageyama says serenely, smile still in place, and Shouyou blinks, bewildered.

Mika nods resolutely, as if a deal has been sealed. "When we see one, we'll tell you to come immediately!"

"I won't be late."

Mika seems to like that. She pats Kageyama's knee again.

"Oh my," a lady's voice says. It's Sekimukai Narumi, Koji's mother. A willowy woman in her late forties, she looks particularly thin in her floral _haori_. Shouyoi wonders if she's eating well, with all the housework and farming tasks she has to do. "Heavens, children, I leave you two for a minute and now the front of the house is such a mess—Shouyou, hello! I'm sorry, I was in the kitchen, I hadn't heard you come in."

"It's fine, it's fine!" Shouyou says, bowing. "Kashou and Mika are such good hosts." When Kageyama stands to his full height, he says, "This is my friend, Kageyama Tobio. He's from Tokyo, and he's staying in the house just across ours."

"Ahh, I did hear about someone coming in from Tokyo the other day! Hello, Kageyama-san. It's nice to meet you," Sekimukai says. "I hope my kids haven't been bothering you."

"They're not, Sekimukai-san."

Shouyou holds up the canvas bags. "Here's the food you ordered! If it's too heavy, I'll just—"

"I wrestle with these kids every day to get them to school on time, Shouyou," Sekimukai tells him with a chuckle. "Arm strength isn't something I lack."

"Did you put in more mushrooms in mine?" Mika says.

Shouyou winks. "And ginkgo nuts."

Mika claps in delight.

"You're not staying?" Kashou asks Kageyama directly.

Kageyama glances at Shouyou, and Shouyou responds, "We still have places to deliver to. We'll come back sometime, yeah?"

"How about tea?" Sekimukai says. "I'll just boil some water real quick..."

"Oh, that's okay! It's really fine, Sekimukai-san."

She gives in. "Drive safely, Shouyou. Kageyama-san." She grasps Shouyou's hand. "Koji asks about you whenever he calls home. You know you're welcome here anytime, right?"

"Thank you," Shouyou says, trying to dispel the tightness in his chest. "I'll come over next week, maybe."

"You too, Kageyama-san, if you're still in town."

Kageyama's eyes widen. "Yes."

They all bow to each other after they make another promise to eat dinner together. Shouyou leaves the Sekimukai residence a little winded.

The whir of the engine becomes a suitable noise for Shouyou’s mind to latch on. He likes the Sekimukais, he really does, but there are times Shouyou doesn't want to stay in their home for too long, especially during the days he feels restless. They make him feel awfully, painfully young. Make him yearn for impossible things.

When he recovers, he decides to tease Kageyama, "What was that all about with the Sekimukai kids?"

Kageyama makes a distressed noise. "I hadn't scared them, had I?"

" _No way_. Dude, I swear they were _this_ close to locking us in their potting shed." Kageyama had _smiled_. Shouyou's man enough to admit that it looked rather nice on Kageyama's perpetually surly mug. "I thought you were gonna be all stiff and robot-y. I was _waiting_ for it."

Kageyama, like the asshole he is, just shrugs. "Sorry to disappoint."

No one speaks when they pass through a tunnel of aspen trees, content with listening to the croon of the radio. Then, as they're greeted by the sight of the river bank, Kageyama divulges, "I've been around kids a lot."

"Really?"

"It's... part of what I have—had to do. I had to meet a lot of them. So I'm used to it. Kids, I mean."

Shouyou makes an awed sound. "Too bad we don't have a lot of kids here. You still could use some practice."

"Yeah," Kageyama says before looking out the window once more.

...

The lanterns outside the _izakaya_ burn bright enough to make it seem like it's still day time. There's not a lot of people out in the village square to mingle with since it's a Sunday night in the first week of April. Nevertheless, it's hot inside when Shouyou enters the tavern, the interior familiar and golden.

They sit in the cool spot with the large windows. There are customers that Shouyou recognizes from all over the village. There are quite a few who have crossed the river from Shizumori, sitting by the bar and making idle chatter with the locals. Most of them are men probably in their fifties and sixties, with their deepening laugh lines and salt and pepper hair.

The server, Oda, greets them with a smile. Oda-san has been working in this _izakaya_ for as long as Shouyou can remember. She gives them beer and two menus with no pictures.

Shouyou leans forward. "The food here's really good." To his amazement, Kageyama only grunts. Shouyou would have thought he'd have an opinion. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"I'll have what you're having."

"Oh. Oh! Well, there's the standard _karaage_. And there's spicy miso pork! You like that, right? They have _hoto_ , _yakisoba_ , chicken wings... there's flounder _tempura_ glazed with _kabosu_ juice... Ahh! They have turban snails! I'm not sure if you'd like it, but—"

"Hinata," Kageyama says, and Shouyou’s face pinks, at the hushed tone of his voice. "I'm alright. Just go pick something."

Shouyou gulps down a quarter of his beer before nodding. Oda approaches their table at that moment. "What can I get you, boys?"

Kageyama looks straight at Shouyou, waiting.

"More beer, Oda-neesan!" Shouyou says, emboldened. "Chicken _karaage_ , pork curry and _hoto_ , please."

"Gotcha." She sets down two bottles, chopsticks and a plate of roasted _edamame_. She turns to Kageyama. "You must be Kageyama Tobio-san! Am I right?"

Kageyama presses his palms on his lap. "Ah, yes."

Oda smiles. "It's been a while since our tiny village had any guests. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And I'm counting on _you_ , Shouyou. Why aren't you coming here more often? Your father used to come here a lot during the weekends."

Shouyou laughs. "Dad had a lot of drinking buddies, didn't he?"

"An absolute wild child," Oda confirms. She then says conspiratorially to Kageyama, "Would you believe me if I told you that Shouyou's a lot tamer than his father?"

Kageyama glances at Shouyou sidelong. "I wouldn't have bet on it."

"I'm not _that_ bad!" Shouyou says, aghast.

"Last time, you were yelling at me about how important rice farmers are to the economy before you passed out. I had to carry you to your room." Kageyama wrinkles his nose in recollection. "You cling like a monkey. I thought you were going to snap my neck."

Shouyou conveniently does not remember any of that. "That won't happen again! I'll be good!"

Kageyama does a full-bodied snort and Oda chuckles, eyeing the two of them in amusement. "You two are welcome here any time. Enjoy the rest of the night, Kageyama-san!"

Shouyou sniggers when Oda is out of earshot. "How does it feel like being sought after, Mr. Popular?"

"What do you mean?"

"All the ladies here in Satomori really like you." Shouyou groans. " _Ugh_ , if only I was tall, I'd prol'ly have a cute girlfriend by now."

Kageyama frowns around the rim of his glass. "What does being tall have anything to do with girls?"

"It just _does_ , believe me." Shouyou props his head with his arm on the table. "You don't have a girl waiting back home?"

Kageyama shakes his head.

"Huh." Shouyou smirks. "At least we're even on that front."

"It doesn't really matter if you have a girlfriend, does it?" Kageyama says as he pops an _edamame_ in his mouth.

"Does it matter? To you?"

"Of course not."

"Oh." Shouyou glances at the ceiling. "Well, then. I guess maybe to some people, it doesn't." He pulls up his shirt sleeves and lets the night air soothe his skin. "I get to meet a lot of folks, thanks to my job. But it's not like I want more from it, you know? Besides, twenty-seven is still pretty young."

Kageyama shrugs and resumes his snacking. Shouyou catches the disinterest in his companion's face, and he lets it go.

The food trickles in, one by one. When the fried tofu and _karaage_ disappear, Kageyama's pork curry is served in a huge dish fit for five people. Shouyou snickers when Kageyama goes as far as removing his thick padded jacket and pushing back his grown-out hair before eating the meal with relish.

Shouyou fills in the silence for them. He talks about the gazillion things Kageyama can do in Satomori while he's here. He can swim by the river whenever he wants. He can go mountain climbing, or do fruit picking. Toya-san, the _tatami_ maker, holds basket weaving classes every Wednesdays and Thursdays for free. Shouyou tried it when he was younger and he got blisters on his fingers a few times, but it was fun. He's always liked using his hands, and it made him feel like he was making something incredible out of dried pieces of perennial grass. It wasn't all too different from cooking.

But Kageyama doesn't want blisters on his fingers—wants to keep them in "pristine" condition, or so he says—so Shouyou suggests that maybe he can watch a goat fighting competition, if he's into that. He can bicycle around town, do some exploring of his own.

At the word _bicycling_ , Kageyama's ears perk, so Shouyou elaborates.

Kamiyama prefecture has one of the most extensive cycling trails in the country for veterans and new riders alike, so it's easy for one to get around by bicycling. The best cycling path follows the Marugame river as it stretches from the city of Shiba to Kochiko, the port town where Izumi lives. It also passes through the famed sugar fields and Shizumori's village center, known for its sugary treats and its gorgeous display of _ikebanas_. The only troubling thing is that, if one opts to follow the forest trail, he'd have to watch out for bears. That's why it's best to ride in the morning and to tie tambourines or rattles on the straps of your rucksack as you cycle at night.

Kageyama raises the chopsticks halfway from his mouth. "You're not coming?" he says.

"I am. Obviously," Shouyou replies. Kageyama's not going to get lost and eaten by any wayward bears under his watch.

Kageyama scarfs down the last of the curry. "Anything else?"

"I... no." Shouyou scratches the shell of his ear. "There's prol'ly more you can do outside Satomori, aside from the bicycling. But that's... mostly it." For the most part, Satomori is a sleepy town. When Shouyou is left to his own devices, he has to actively look out for things that'll make living here more interesting. But no matter what, it can get repetitive and boring, as much as it pains him to admit.

Shouyou shakes his head and persists, "Sounds interesting, right? You'll have tons of fun here, I'm sure!"

"You've really done all of those already?"

"Of course!"

"Except some stuff out of town."

"Yeah, I guess. Kamiyama is _massive_ , you know." Shouyou has never even been a day away from home since he was twenty-two. He has _responsibilities_ now. Fifteen year old Hinata Shouyou would have been stunned and indignant at his future self.

Kageyama refills his glass with beer. "Then let's do that as well. Stuff you haven't done before."

Shouyou suddenly feels feverish. "Yeah?"

"I'm not going to be one-upped by you all the time. You already have the home-court advantage."

 _Since when has fruit picking turned into a contest?_ Shouyou thinks, delighted. "Eh? You sure 'bout that? I'm going to make fun of you for _days_. Just you wait."

Kageyama narrows his eyes, before the lines around his mouth softens, and his gaze eases with what seems like content.

Nothing much really happens in Satomori; that's something Shouyou has long since banked on. But once in a while, something comes along and shakes things up, the change springing from the most unexpected places.

Shouyou doesn't realize he's been staring at the windburn on Kageyama's cheeks, until they turn pink and he says, " _Oi._ What are you spacing out for, dumbass?"

Once in a while, _someone_ comes along, and Shouyou can't help but start questioning himself.

How long ago had he been out with a friend?

"Nothing," Shouyou says, smiling. "Just thinking about food. What I should cook tomorrow."

Kageyama licks his lips. "Don't you always?"

"Wow." Shouyou laughs. "You know me so well already."

~O~

For the first time in a long while, Shouyou wakes up when the sun is already at its highest. He can feel the imprints of his sheets on his face as he blinks away the sand in his eyes. He runs to the kitchen, where he finds Grandma Eiko and a steaming bowl of fish stew served on the table.

"You didn't wake me," Shouyou whines, throwing his head back. "I was supposed to make deliveries—Kirigaya-san will be so mad—"

"I said you were taking a day off."

"What?"

" _I said to them_ ," Grandma says as she nibbles on a persimmon. "That you're taking a day off. They'll survive. Now why are you standing there when there's food on the table?" She gives him a stern look when he remains still. " _Eat_ , Shouyou. You're going to miss eating as much as you like when you get to my age. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Shouyou sighs as he pushes back the padded seat. "Alright, Gran," he says, though he can't manage to sound as put out as he wants. Not when his grandmother is watching him feast with a victorious look on her face.

She pushes the bowl closer to him. "I take it you enjoyed your night out."

"Yeah," Shouyou says. He can't lie to her. "Thanks. I think I needed that."

"Of course you did," Grandma says haughtily, and Shouyou can't fight back a laugh.

~O~

Shouyou unplugs his phone from the charger and reads the messages he's gotten. There's one from Kenma, with a very general answer about his well-being. He's doing well in his job (unsurprisingly), and there's a new milkshake place that opened across their building that he wants to try. He sent Shouyou a picture of the menu; it loads for a whole minute until Shouyou gets to read it.

Shouyou doesn't even hesitate with his reply. _Get the strawberries mixed with bananas! I bet you'd love those!!!_

Next, he opens Natsu's text. It's significantly longer than Kenma's, an exhaustive description of her classes and her friends. She tells him about an internship she's interested in applying for, and although Shouyou knows that his little sister won't twiddle her thumbs over it, he sends her an encouraging, _Go for it, twerp!_

She replies instantly: _It's a great opportunity, isn't it? Oh btw there's this pancake place that Mi-chan and I tried the other day! It's so good!!! T_T We're thinking of coming back as many times as we can so we could figure out whatever ingredients were in that ~*masterpiece*~. I'll send you the list. Make it for me when I get back!_

She's so demanding. Shouyou chuckles, trying to shake off the sudden brush of sadness that makes his shoulders feel oddly heavy. It's amazing how easily he can hear her voice as he read, as if she's right there next to him.

Shouyou sends her a sticker of an egg doing a military salute.

~O~

The chickens cluck in anticipation when they see Shouyou lumbering to their pen, carrying a bucket of feed. They make a mad scramble for the entrance when Shouyou unloads the bucket by the low wire fence. He lets out an exhale and looks up. The spring sky seems to be holding its breath. There's no trace of clouds, no gust of wind.

The days have started to get longer, bit by bit, and so does Shouyou's to-do list. There's a crick to his neck that flares up every now and again, a telltale sign that he's been spending too much time in the kitchen (which is already a remarkable amount for most people). His grandmother had given up prying him away from the stove as soon as she started. He got that obsessiveness from her, anyway.

There's something about physical labor that lets Shouyou's mind free to wander, and it must be a sentiment that the men and women of Satomori share. Maybe it’s the repetition, all that muscle memory. As their hands work hard and the earth soaks up the sweat rolling off their bodies, their thoughts are given a chance to drift away to far-off places, even just for a short while.

But cooking requires all of his consciousness; not being wholly present detracts something from the taste. Too much, or too little. Too salty or bitter. Grandma can always tell when Shouyou made something while he's distracted.

 _"Whatever you touch,"_ Grandma Eiko said, after ruthlessly laying out everything that went wrong with Shouyou's _sukiyaki_. _"Is an extension of your mind. If you aren't paying attention, your cleaver won't slice the meat as finely as you desire. Your ladle won't stir in the direction you want it to. So keep your mind clear. A tree planted near the river that doesn't yield to the current will bear fruit in its season."_

Shouyou can't cook thusly, not when his neck is sore and his thoughts are going a mile a minute. That's why he's out here, tending to the chickens.

He sits on the bamboo bench and lets out another breath. He wonders what Kageyama is up to.

It's been a long time since Kageyama Tobio arrived. It's been a mind-boggling _four weeks_. Shouyou doesn't know what to make out of that information, just that it somehow makes his skin prickle with unease. He knows from Kenma that a person can't take an entire month's leave from work, not unless he's someone important. He can easily picture Kageyama in a sleek office in a bustling tower, with his scowling face and no-nonsense disposition. But Kageyama hasn't volunteered any information about what he did in Tokyo, or even about his life in Sendai, and Shouyou doesn't want to ask. He sympathizes with not wanting people all over his business. He's lived in a small town for most of his life, after all.

But there are moments—wonderful, sometimes silly little moments, when Kageyama offers up a small piece of himself, especially at night, at the time he seems softer, less restrained. Like that time Shouyou was telling him about Natsu, and he mentioned he's an only child. Or that time they walked home together, when he revealed he suspects animals disliked him, as he stared after a village cat longingly but kept a safe distance.

Then Kageyama would soon after hold his cards so close to his chest, and Shouyou has to wonder whether it's something he does unconsciously or not.

 _Is he staying for a while?_ Shouyou wouldn't dare hope. People can come without warning, and they may leave as soon and as quietly as they arrived.

What he does hope is that the fresh air and woodland noises have made Kageyama feel that he can be himself while he’s here, and realize that he’s got Shouyou and the rest of Satomori looking out for him. Whatever it is that made him drive for four hundred kilometers under the spring rains, whatever it is that made him all guarded and tired and unhappy, Shouyou wishes that it’ll no longer be there in Tokyo when Kageyama leaves for home.

And Shouyou wishes, most of all, that while in Tokyo, Kageyama Tobio would come to miss that same fresh air and woodland noise. That he’d miss it enough to want to come back to this languid, uncomplicated village in Southern Japan. Perhaps not all the time, but maybe once in a while.

~O~

Shouyou comes out of his house at the same time Kageyama locks the door of his own home. The other man is wearing the same running outfit Shouyou has seen during the early mornings previous.

Kageyama peers at him. "Where are you going?"

"Shrine." Shouyou yawns and stretches unabashedly. "How far are you running?"

"A couple kilometers." Kageyama seems to be assessing him. "You want to join me sometime?"

It's too early in the morning; Shouyou can't quite manage to hide the shock from his face. "Yeah, for sure!" He's embarrassed at the excited lilt in his voice. "And you can come to the shrine with me, if you want."

Kageyama squints at the mountainside, looking unsure. "You mentioned before that you're visiting your dad... Is that okay?"

"Of course! Why not?"

Kageyama rubs his nape. "Can I come later? To your house?"

"You hungry?" Shouyou grins. "I'll whip something nice for you. S'there anything you want specifically?"

"Nothing, really." Kageyama nods at him tersely. "See you."

"Take care not to trip or something!" Shouyou shouts at his retreating figure. He can feel Kageyama's indignant squawk more than he hears it.

...

While he was coming down the mountain, Shouyou was on the lookout for _shidoke_ , a vegetable with dark, serrated leaves that grows well under the shade of the forest. In a stroke of luck, he also stumbled across a patch of bamboo shoots and _taranbo_. He took as much as he could, and murmured his thanks to the mountain goddess.

In the kitchen, Shouyou steams a clump of _shidoke_ and stir fries the bamboo shoots with tofu and mushrooms. After the _shidoke_ 's done, he seasons it with bonito flakes and soy sauce. He checks if the dough of the red bean buns he's set aside has risen considerably. He wraps the metal lid with a cotton cloth before placing the first batch in the steamer.

There's a loud knock. Shouyou dashes to the foyer and slides the shutters open. "Hey," he says, acutely aware that his face is flushed from the steam. Kageyama makes a weird face at him.

"Sorry for intruding." Kageyama bows to no one in particular and sheds his shoes.

"I'm not done yet," Shouyou hollers. "But go make yourself comfortable. I'm making stir fried _sansai_. Every growing boy needs 'em spring vegetables." He punctuates that with a reedy laugh.

"Smells good," Kageyama murmurs as he takes a seat by the table. "Thanks for the meal."

Shouyou bounces on his toes. "You're welcome."

Once Shouyou's done, they eat in companionable silence. Kageyama must like the meal; he eats four servings, all on his own. Shouyou's chest becomes light and expansive at the sight.

"So," Kageyama says gruffly. "Is there some place you want us to go today?"

Shouyou licks his lips and tastes the soy sauce. "Do you want to?"

Kageyama shrugs, like he doesn't care either way. He takes a red bean bun, nibbling on it like a golden carp, instead of taking humongous bites like he usually would.

Shouyou then gets an idea. "Let's go after you're done squirreling that bun, you big sweet tooth." He piles all the used dishes in the sink. "I think you'll like this."

...

"You took me to a _goldfish_ store? What the hell for?"

Shouyou shoots the shopkeeper an apologetic look before glaring up at Kageyama. "Why do you get so mad about everything, jeez," he grumbles. "Why? Don't you like fish?"

"I eat them well," Kageyama says. A boy with a bowl cut in the souvenir section overhears and throws them a dirty look. Shouyou can only give a sheepish smile in return.

"Don’t you want to play with animals?"

"Huh?"

"Let's play _kingyosukui_!" Shouyou announces, shoving Kageyama to the front desk. There's surprisingly little resistance, but the look on Kagayema's face is barely acquiescing.

The shopkeeper, Harano-san, watches Kageyama suspiciously before smiling at Shouyou. "What brings 'ya here, Hinata-san?"

Shouyou tilts his head in Kageyama's direction. "I want to play _kingyosukui_ with this grumpy asshole, please!"

"Eh?" Harano raises his shoulders and huffs. "Ya sure? Think he's up for it?"

Kageyama looks mildly offended. Shouyou snickers at the side. "Everyone's played with goldfish before," he says, and Harano reluctantly hands him a pair of plastic bowls and paper nets each.

As they are ushered inside the warehouse where the pools are, Kageyama grabs Shouyou's arm and whispers, his breaths puffing hotly at his ear, "Why did you say that, idiot? I've never tried _kingyosukui_ before."

"What? Are you serious? Then why didn't you say so earlier?"

"How the hell should I know you wanted to do fucking _goldfish scooping_? Dumbass Hinata!"

"Because we went to a goldfish store?" Shouyou sighs. "All the more reason to do it, then! Come on! It'll be _fun_!"

Kageyama looms before the fish tank, staring at the fishes and the bubbling water dubiously. Three school children playing by the tank huddle closer together at the sight of him. Shouyou sighs again long-sufferingly and kneels on the platform. After some deliberation, Kageyama follows his lead.

"It's simple, really. You just have to scoop the fish using this paper net and then drop them in this bowl," Shouyou says. "Seriously though, you haven't played this before?'' Everyone who's been in summer festivals has tried _kingyosukui_ at some point in their childhood. The one who has the most fish in their bowl wins. Shouyou used to play every time the sugar lantern festival came around. He was a champ for four years running.

The soft skin around Kageyama's neck turns a blotchy shade of red. "So I should just dip this?" he murmurs.

"Yeah! But you gotta be careful 'cause it'll—"

The paper dissolves as soon as Kageyama submerges his net in the water.

"—Rip." Shouyou purses his lips, attempting valiantly to contain his laughter. "That's fine! Let's get you another one!"

Kageyama curses under his breath. The children playing beside him burst into fits of giggles.

Shouyou demonstrates. "You just have to slowly get the net under the fish. And then, slowly, _sloooowwwlllyy_..." He transfers the fish into the bowl. "Look, see?"

Kageyama tries again, and fails. He comes to a grand number of five paper nets before smacking his forehead with his palm. " _Argh_! How do you do it?" he grits. He frowns at his empty bowl, and gestures at Shouyou's bowl like he wants to swipe it. The outline of his hand begins to bloom a pale pink color under his bangs.

"Weren't you watching?"

"I _was_!"

"You have to be _gentle_ , okay? You can't force 'em into it," Shouyou says. "Let me show you." He wraps his fingers around Kageyama's wrist. Guiding Kageyama's net, he carefully places it under an unsuspecting goldfish, before turning it over. The fish flops in easily into Kageyama's bowl. "See? You can't just thwack 'em in there like a baseball."

Shouyou turns to his shoulder, and is surprised to see Kageyama’s face going pale, seeming like he’s holding his breath. He looks stricken.

Shouyou quickly draws back his hand. "Sorry!" he squeaks.

Kageyama grunts and glances at him furtively, before looking down at the hand that Shouyou touched. He then wriggles his fingers.

Shouyou leans closer. "Kageyama?"

After a beat of silence, Kageyama murmurs, mostly to himself, "It's like you're holding air..." The shadows in his eyes clear. "No force..."

Shouyou nods eagerly. "Yep, no force! Just guide it," he says, parroting the words his father used to say to him and Natsu back in the day. "Kingyosukui _is a game of niceness, of sensitivity,_ " Hinata Mahiro intoned. _"The samurai used to train by playing this game. It trains your heart to be kind, because you have to be gentle to succeed. Guide the fish, and treat them well, like you would your own kin."_

Shouyou checks, "Think you could do it now?"

"Yeah," Kageyama says, a renewed vigor in his voice. He presses his fingertips together.

After three more tries, Kageyama manages to catch a fish without ripping his net. The children start to cheer.

"Ha!" Shouyou says, triumphant. " _Finally_ , Gentleyama-kun’s on the scoreboard."

Kageyama hits Shouyou's arm with the back of his hand, though there's a ferocious grin now gracing his lips. _It's on._ They resume their play without another word, the atmosphere thick with an almost war-like verve.

They spend the whole afternoon catching goldfish. By the time dusk sets in, Harano has to kick them out and tell Shouyou to come back the next day if they still want to play. Shouyou ekes out a win by the skin of his teeth. He outnumbers Kageyama's catch by one.

~O~

_May 20, 2024_  
_Almost Summer_

...

The cicadas make it hard for Shouyou to hear the old ladies shouting at him from the other side of the field. His gray cotton shirt is soaked thoroughly, and it clings like a smelly second skin. He removes his hat and cards his finger through his hair, wincing at the dirty, sticky feel of it. He groans when he stands straight, his back and shoulders aching.

He bends down again and picks out the weeds, careful not to disturb the sugar cane shoots. The weeds close in where the tiny buds surround the growing primary stems, so he has to lightly dig out the roots of the mugworts and spiderworts with his two fingers, before pulling them out completely.

"Hinata-san!"

Shouyou stands up abruptly. His back protests. "Yes?"

"Hinata-san!” someone calls again. It’s Mizutani-san trudging towards him. "Come and have some food already! You must be starving!"

Shouyou takes his basket full of weeds and stalks after her.

All the men and women gather at the Sekimukai estate. The tall groves of cedar and oak trees surrounding the estate provide ample shade from the sun. Shouyou and the rest of the farmers have been tilling the cane fields for almost four hours. With noon approaching, they take a break inside the farmhouse, a place so huge that it could accommodate all twenty-six volunteers.

"During the time of our ancestors, we had more people coming here to help during the planting and harvesting season," Sekimukai says to Shouyou when she notices him admiring the thick wooden beams supporting the alcove. "When there were more sugar farms, everyone would assemble early in the morning and share tasks, eat lunch together, drink and bathe together, then go home. Even though we're the only sugar farm left, we're grateful that people still come to help."

Mizutani sidles up to her and smiles. "Don't even think about it, Narumi-chan! We're supposed to make each other's lives easier, aren't we? It's all part of the Satomori spirit!"

The Sekimukai children serve them tea and _maki_. After eating, Shouyou plays with them in their front yard, until Kirigaya calls him aside for a quick chat.

"I know how much you wanted to be part of the organizing committee for the Mud Sports festival this June," Kirigaya says, and then laughs at the jubilant gleam in Shouyou's eyes. "Yokohito-san was very particular about your lending us a hand with your youthful vigor."

Shouyou's tongue flops like a gasping fish in his mouth. "T-thank you!" He bows thrice. "I won't disappoint you!"

"If I'm not mistaken, you're the first Hinata to be voted in on the committee." Kirigaya smiles. "So it's an honor to work with you, too."

"Thank you!"

"I'll be seeing you again next week, then! I hope you'll be patient with us old timers. It usually takes us a while to get in the groove when we have these meetings." Kirigaya then grows thoughtful. "Will Kageyama-san still be here for the festival?"

"Oh, Kageyama?" Shouyou wipes the perspiration under his chin. "I don't know, really. He hasn't said."

Kirigaya looks astonished. "He hasn't said?" he repeats. "He's been here for almost two months."

"Yeah..." Shouyou laughs awkwardly. "It's not something that comes up. I'll ask later if I can."

"Does he seem like he's considering staying in Satomori?"

Shouyou opens his mouth, and then closes it again, at a loss for words. Kirigaya takes pity on him and says, "Well, just let us know. If he decides to stay until the second week of June, ask him if there's anything he feels uncomfortable doing with the rest of the villagers. We hope he feels welcome."

"Okay."

Kirigaya pats Shouyou on the shoulder, though the perplexed look in his eyes remains as he walks away. He joins the rest of the men in the _tatami_ room, and Shouyou exhales swiftly.

...

"Shouyou."

He whirls around to find Sekimukai Narumi at the other end of the foyer, a jar of yellow liquid in her slim hands. Sugarcane juice. Shouyou ambles to her and bows. "Thanks so much! Gran will love this!"

"Oh, I do hope there's enough for the both of you."

"We'll try to make this last for the entire summer. We'll drink a jar's lid a day."

Sekimukai laughs, a hand over her lips. She then says, "Have you talked to Koji recently?"

Shouyou tilts his head. "Koji? We exchanged messages around a month ago or so. I haven't heard from him recently. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no! Nothing, of course! Everything's _splendid_ , really." There's a twinkle in her eye when she smiles this time. "Koji might be getting married sometime this year. Has he told you anything about it yet?"

"Married?" Shouyou says. "Koji's getting married?"

"Might be. He's thinking of proposing." Sekimukai is visibly vibrating under her _haori_. "I honestly can't believe it. My first born. Wants to start a family of his own! I was eight years younger when I married his father. To think that my Koji is turning into a man just now..." Her accompanying laugh comes out watery. "If only his father was here to witness this..."

Shouyou's eyes become unfocused. Koji only mentioned his girlfriend at least thrice in their texts. He said they met at work in Nagoya, and that she was older than him by five years (Shouyou recalls teasing him about it at some point in their monthly correspondence). He hadn't gotten the impression that they were serious.

 _My best friend is getting married_ , he thinks numbly. He starts to feel a little dizzy.

"Congratulations!" he says, trying to inject as much cheerfulness as he can in that greeting. "I'm very happy for Koji and your entire family."

"He must haven't gotten around telling you and Izumi-kun yet. I'm sorry if I'm the one who broke the news. I'm just so excited! Can you not tell that I was the one who told you?"

Shouyou laughs breathily. "I'll keep my lips sealed," he says, something dark and heavy settling in his gut. He scrambles for an excuse to leave. "I have to get going. I'm meeting Kageyama tonight. Who knows what shenanigans he'll get up to when I leave him bored out of his mind?"

"You sure have your own way with the lost folk, Shouyou-kun." Sekimukai waves. "Tell Kageyama-san I said hi! And that he can come visit us anytime!"

"I will!" Shouyou ducks his head and leaves, praying to the gods Sekimukai-san didn't find him as shifty and awful as he felt.

He blasts the radio in its highest volume setting, not wanting to hear a wisp of his own thoughts. His feet and hands move for him; he's so distracted that it's a miracle he arrives at Kageyama's place unscathed. Kageyama's front door is unlocked and he lets himself in.

Kageyama's in the _tatami_ room doing finger push-ups shirtless. It's already eight in the evening. Shouyou thinks he's going crazy.

Kageyama abruptly halts his workout. "What do you mean you're going crazy?" he says, out of breath.

Shouyou colors. He must have said his thoughts out loud. "Just tired. My back hurts like crazy." He avoids Kageyama's inquisitive gaze. "Put a shirt on for a sec, will you? I can't take you seriously when you're dripping like mad all over the floor."

Kageyama snorts. His pectorals and his biceps shift at the action. "You're the one who barged in my own house," he says, but puts on a shirt anyway. " _Oi._ What happened at the Sekimukais?"

Shouyou raises his head to meet Kageyema's eyes. With all the time they've spent together, he believes he's gotten somewhat adept in reading Kageyama's non-expressions. The rest of Kageyama's face is unremarkable—he looks almost like an unwilling audience to Shouyou's sudden bouts of quarter-life crises—but there's a peculiar set to his jaw, and a minute wrinkle at the corner of his eyes. He looks... concerned.

The intense needling under Shouyou’s skin calms and settles. "That bicycling thing I told you about... You wanna do it?"

Kageyama frowns. "When do you think we should do it?"

"Right now."

Kageyama exhales. "You're in no condition, dumbass." He wipes his face brusquely with a white towel. "Tomorrow, early morning."

"Why ask when you've already decided?"

"I just wanted to know how urgently you needed to go."

That pulls Shouyou to a stop. _Need_ , he thinks, shaken. Not _want_. "We can borrow Michuzi-san's bike. I'll ask her." He hopes Michuzi won't chew him out for disturbing her in the middle of the night. He's on a roll today.

Kageyama nods, eyeing Shouyou sharply. The post-exertion flush on his skin now clears, and all that's left is that sheen of sweat across his collarbones. The sight of it leaves Shouyou a bit breathless.

Seriously, there must be something wrong with him. He's been getting flustered by such inconsequential things lately. It must be the coming summer heat.

Shouyou imagines the creak of the pedals as he cycles through the narrow roads. Imagines the burn in his thighs, the wind on his face. This time, he won't be venturing Kamiyama alone. Kageyama will be right there with him.

Everything will be alright.

~O~


	3. part ii: a bellflower blooms in the place warriors once bled

~O~

_May 21, 2024  
Early Summer_

...

As an apology for last night, Shouyou gifts Kageyama the last box of milk they have in their fridge. He seems to approve of the gesture and drinks the milk in one go.

They have all their bags hoisted on their backs, packed well and light enough for a three, four-day cycle around Kamiyama. Shouyou knows one particular trail like the back of his hand; he assures Kageyama that they won't get lost. At that moment, Grandma Eiko comes out of the house to bid them safe travels.

Shouyou walks up to her, tail between his legs. "I—I'm sorry I sprang this all up on you last night without any warning. I wasn't thinking straight—"

Grandma pats his head. "You worry too much. I've wanted to have the house all to myself for ages."

"But the food—"

"Goodness! You're not the only one who can cook around here." Her aged hand shifts to pinch Shouyou's cheeks. "Us old timers won't starve to death if you're not around for a few days."

"... If you say so."

"Your father used to ran off on his own whenever he found a chance. It's almost hard to believe you were just like him when you were so much younger." She then smiles, a little sadly. "You've grown far too much than you should have, my sweet."

"I really don't think I have," Shouyou says honestly. With the way his grandmother is talking and holding him, he feels so vulnerable.

"I see what I should see, you know I do. You used to go as far away and as fast as your legs could take you. And now..." She glances at Kageyama. "Now, you've got company."

Shouyou nods. "I do."

Grandma places both of her hands on Shouyou's face, cupping his cheeks. "Shouyou," she says softly. "I'll be here as long as you need me. Don't ever think that I'll be gone as soon as you step out of the door. I'm where I belong."

Shouyou blinks rapidly. "Yeah," he croaks out. "Okay."

"Your heart is not in the right place," Grandma whispers. "Go look for it."

"I will."

Grandma releases him from her grasp. Shouyou inhales swiftly, and his chest hurts at the sudden motion. To Kageyama, Grandma says, "Take care of my grandson. He can get off the rails when he gets too excited."

Kageyama gives her a flawless, ninety-degree bow. "Yes," he says woodenly.

"Do you want anything when I get back?" Shouyou says to her as he leaps on his bike and kicks the stand off the ground.

"Just your clarity of mind." She then pauses. "And some _wasabi_ , if you can. Heavens! It's so difficult to get my hands on the good ones."

Shouyou laughs. "I'm on it! Bye, Gran!"

...

After passing through the fields and crossing the bridge, they scale the side of the mountains on the thin strip of road that courses along Satomori and the edge of Shizumori. The dense forest on their left is noisy with the clamor of the insects, and on their right, the ravines showcase the bright blue of the Marugame river, and the crisp green of the rice paddies below.

Shouyou's knees burn as he pedals over the incline, his rapid intake of oxygen punctuating the metallic grating of the bicycle spokes. Kageyama keeps pace with him, only falling back when they've reached a stretch in the road that only allows one cyclist to pass through at a time. When he peeks at the corner of his eyes and spots the familiar sweep of hair, black as a crow's wing and gossamer-thin, fluttering against the breeze, Shouyou doesn't worry.

When they get to a particularly steep part of the trail, the two of them have an unspoken competition on who gets to the top first. Shouyou wins by virtue of more experience, Kageyama only trailing him by a mere inch. Shouyou grins at the sun, elated. He honestly can't remember the last time he felt this alive. His arms are sticky with perspiration, and his leg muscles tingle in exertion.

They're silent when they come down the mountains. The trail opens up to a wider road, and the landscape changes to reveal the town of Matsusaka's rice fields. The crops that were planted in the spring are starting to turn into a beautiful, opulent summer green, and in a few months, they'll change to a magnificent golden color, ripe for harvesting. They pass an immense pond, almost like a lake, its surface glittering under the morning sun. Further out are tall hedges of Japanese holly lining the sides of the road, which turns into a cobblestone path that signifies their entry into the town proper. Shouyou doesn't know a lot of people in this portion of Kamiyama—not a lot people call him for deliveries here—and that knowledge spurs him on to explore Matsusaka properly. It’s one of Kamiyama’s greatest prides, a historic town where famed samurais used to settle. It's a nice change of pace.

The sun is almost at its peak in the sky. Shouyou searches for a good place to stop. Kageyama can't be out under the glare of the summer for too long, it seems; Shouyou saw him squinting and wincing when they cycled through the rice paddies earlier.

They take a detour in a homey-looking pastry shop, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting out of the establishment and making Shouyou's mouth water. He gets a full-on assault to his nostrils when the doors slide open; the air is filled with that sweet, slightly yeasty aroma. The bakery has a few seats and tables, all set to one side of the room, opposite the baked goods display. Kageyama sits, cradling his head, while Shouyou traipses to the pastries, nose close to the glass.

"Anything you like?" the stocky man at the counter says. He has his long graying hair tied in a top knot, and his beard is neatly trimmed.

"I want to try everything," Shouyou confesses. "But that'll probably take us the whole day."

The man guffaws. "Too bad we close at five. Tourists, are 'ya?"

"I'm from Satomori. But that guy over there—the one with the magnificent scowl on his face—he's the tourist. He's from Tokyo."

"Tokyo, eh? I've been there a handful of times. Swell place. Loads of people." He then laughs. "Just too fast-paced for me. And the _dust_." He shudders. "Ever been there, young 'un?"

"Someday." Shouyou looks up to the menu. "I'll have the _shokupan_ , the milk bread curry bun, the _koshi anpan_ , and the cream cheese. One of each except for the curry buns. I'll get two of them." He then looks back at Kageyama. "Maybe some hot milk, please? And some house tea."

"Splendid choices." The man takes Shouyou's cash and goes over to the display. Shouyou waits as he fills the tray with the orders. "I'll have the hot milk and tea on your table in a while. Please enjoy."

"We will!" Shouyou, armed with the tray full of treats, heads over to their table. Kageyama still has his head in his hands. Shouyou pulls his chair back and taps the table. "You okay there?"

"Yeah," Kageyama says weakly. "Just... give me a minute."

"Do you want to stop?"

"I'm not delicate," Kageyama growls. "I'm just not used to being out so long under the sun during this season."

"Eh?" Shouyou says as he hands Kageyama all the curry buns. "You mean to say you were always cooped up in your place or wherever during the summer months?"

"... Sort of."

 _That's not healthy at all_ , Shouyou wants to say, but he bets Kageyama already knows that. "Wow. S'great that you wanted to come with me, then." He grins. "Fearless-yama."

Kageyama looks at him, like he's gauging whether Shouyou's serious or not, before reaching out for the curry bun.

"Here. Try the cream cheese with me," Shouyou urges. "It's so good."

The man from the counter serves them their drinks. Kageyama bows to him in thanks while Shouyou exhaustively praises the pastries.

After a minute of silence, Kageyama then says, "Do you do that a lot?"

"Huh?"

"Stare at people while they eat."

Shouyou, as if electrocuted, leans away from the table. "Oh, sorry! I didn't—is it uncomfortable?"

Kageyama shrugs, now onto the last curry bun. "You always stare at me whenever I eat something. I just noticed."

Shouyou's face heats. "Oh. Um. Force of habit? Kenma and Izumi used to say that a lot, too. I watch people when they're eating—I suppose that’s because I can always judge from their faces whether the food was good. Even if they're not saying it with words, I can tell. Whether what I made for them is tasty or not." He pauses, then laughs to dispel the awkwardness he felt. "Sorry. I'll... try not to stare at you next time."

"I don't care, so no need." Kageyama gulps down his milk. "Habits are hard to shake off, anyway," he says.

Shouyou hunches forward, smiling in chagrin. That he knows.

...

After letting noon pass, they cycle deeper into town. Most of the houses are traditional ones, with all its latticed windows covered in white _washi_ paper, the sloping roofs, the raised, wooden verandas. The fronts of some of the houses have been turned into shops selling knick-knacks of all kinds, the most popular seeming to be the wood carvings of forest animals. Quite a gathering of school children admire the rows of tiny carvings of the Japanese marten, curled into a tight ball.

Once they've gone through the town square, they head to the south side where much of the houses are more modern. There are vending machines and a number of cars parked in one of the cul de sacs. The air around it seems to be different too; denser, somber, quieter. They enter a small grocery store and refill their water in one of the stations.

They begin to scale the roads transecting the Tsuyukami mountains. It's a huge climb—they have to go a thousand meters above ground in a single stretch, fighting gravity and exhaustion in tandem. Shouyou almost stands up on his bike as he pedals, panting harshly. Much to his consternation, Kageyama, with his superior leg strength, pulls ahead.

It's a different story when they go down, however. Kageyama cedes to Shouyou as the road becomes a tortuous path. Shouyou has to apply his brakes numerous times whenever he nears a blind curve. The forest wind smells musty, heavy with vapor.

They then reach the point where the ground starts to level. They pass a field of white daisies and a great expanse of deciduous trees, their leaves dark and glossy under the afternoon sun. Shouyou stops at the wide bend in the road, where he knows they'll get a good vantage point of the valleys. At the place where the shallow canyons overlap with the larger ones, a waterfall flows, eroding the steep limestone rocks it comes across. The vapor settles like cool water on a basin.

Shouyou sighs and smiles. This was totally worth the climb.

He and Kageyama park their bikes and rest under the shade of a rocky awning. They remain silent, admiring the view.

When the quiet starts to stretch to more than twenty minutes, Shouyou begins busying himself with his shirt, pulling them repeatedly. By the time he's started stacking the fallen twigs to form a dollhouse, Kageyama has already had enough of him: "Do you want me to beat you up?"

"What? You wanna go?"

"Stop moving around so much. It's irritating." Kageyama grimaces. "Whatever you're going to tell me, I'm not going to get mad."

Shouyou's pile of sticks falls apart. He gazes at Kageyama. "But you always get mad at me for everything."

"I always get mad at your _stupidity_. There's a difference." Kageyama glances at him, before looking onwards at the valley. "I don't think your stupidity has anything to do with... whatever the hell this is."

"Kageyama-kun, has anyone ever mentioned how mean you are?"

Kageyama ignores that and waits.

Shouyou wavers, his heart stuttering at the intensity of Kageyama's stare at the mountainside. He can't truly decide what to do at times like this, when someone offers a listening ear while all Shouyou wants to do is to dust himself off and move on. He's not the type to linger on things, especially on stuff he thinks he has no control over.

But Kageyama's still waiting. His shoulders are slack against the steady rock behind him. His expression looks more open than ever.

Shouyou says, "One of my best friends is getting married."

Kageyama turns to meet his eyes swiftly. "Who?"

"Sekimukai Koji. The one in Nagoya."

Kageyama studies him. "Aren't you supposed to be happy?"

"I am, I think." Shouyou exhales shakily. "I don't know. I don't know why I'm feeling like this..."

Kageyama shifts from his seat, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Shouyou is. "What—" His expression morphs like he's swallowed something bitter. "What are you... feeling exactly?"

That's the thing, isn't it? Shouyou doesn't know. A part of him must be happy—because of course he is—but there's something else grating at him, making him want to fling something across the ravine. All Shouyou can tell is that whatever it is, something in him feels vicious, raw. His throat is dry.

Shouyou doesn't think he's ever been this angry before.

"I think I'm mad." And then—once he said it, his heart plummets, and something dark takes over where his heart used to be, welling up and making his chest grow tight. He feels winded, and there's a telltale wetness in his eyes. "He's one of the closest friends I have."

"And he's getting married."

"Yeah."

Kageyama looks lost. "Do you want to get married, too?"

Shouyou pauses, trying to find that desire in him, but he doesn't. "I don't know. Maybe? In the future? Not now, though. I don't think so."

"Do you like Koji-san?"

"Well, yeah. Of course I do."

Kageyama makes a weird noise, a cross between a grunt and a whine. "Not in that sense." He glances at Shouyou.

The air around him warms considerably. "Like... the way my dad likes my mom, or something?" Shouyou says.

"Yeah. Something like that."

Shouyou sputters, "That can happen?"

"Obviously. That's why I asked. So do you like Koji-san? You sound like you like him."

"I..." That is definitely not something Shouyou has looked into. "I don't know." He groans. "Why does it even matter?"

Kageyama sighs. "You must be the least self-aware person I've ever met."

Shouyou's breath hitches in offense. He's not the one who has a trail of middle schoolers and aunties staring after him longingly, and hasn't noticed one bit. Kageyama doesn't get to say that. "I'm not _not_ self-aware!"

"What is it that you want, then?" Kageyama says gruffly, resting his head under his arms. "If not marriage or Sekimukai Koji-san?"

There's something in the way Kageyama said it that raises Shouyou's hackles. He stands up to glare at the other man. "I don't _know_ , Kageyama!" he says hotly. "Is that so bad, not knowing what you want? Maybe I'm just jealous! Maybe I just want what he has! Maybe I just want—" _To never be alone_. He clamps his mouth shut and ends up biting his lower lip so hard he draws blood.

Kageyama looks at him again, stare deep and unnerving in the only way Kageyama's eyes can make him feel. As if he's silently challenging Shouyou to do what he rarely does, pushing him to delve into the places inside him he's always deigned to scrutinize.

Everyone has their own thing now. Shouyou has only started to realize, back at the Sekimukai estate. Koji feels farther away than ever. Natsu, too. Izumi, Kenma, Kogane...

What does he want, if he's not unhappy? Shouyou honestly thinks he's the happiest he's ever been, in this short, remarkable life of his. But happiness seems an inadequate word in the face of explaining how Shouyou feels. There's that restlessness, that insatiable hunger. He wants— _more_.

There must be something more. Something he's missing.

What does he want?

A friend? A lover?

A partner?

All Shouyou knows is that he longs for the day that he'll have someone by his side, always. He wants it so much that his heart aches.

"I guess I just miss having them around," Shouyou mutters, hanging his head low. "Friends. Family. Someone. I just—I really can't stand being alone." He's always known that loneliness tends to cling to him like a heady scent, is always in tangent with the everyday joy he has in his heart. But he had no idea how immensely he feels it.

He's got no idea how to deal with it, now that he's aware of it.

He sniffs and blinks rapidly to shed the tears that's making his vision blurry, but Kageyama doesn't look away.

"You're more than that, aren't you? Whatever it is you're feeling," Kageyama says in a low voice. He's gotten to his feet.

Shouyou says tightly, " _Of course_. I'll get over it. I—I'm just being silly right now, I know."

Kageyama frowns. "That's not what I meant," he says, sounding somewhat angry. "I'm saying it doesn't matter because it's not the truth. You're not alone. You can't be." He closes a bit of distance between them. "There's greater strength in numbers. That's what people always told me. And you've always been strong. Stronger than a lot of people I've come across. So. You're not really all by yourself, are you? Even now, do you think you are?"

Kageyama frowns even more. "I'm here. As long as I'm here, you can do anything." He then squeezes Shouyou's shoulder like a promise, before letting go.

Shouyou roughly wipes his face with his shirt sleeve, disgusting himself to find his snot sticking to the cloth obscenely. He tries to stand tall like he doesn't care and tilts his head up to face Kageyama.

Kageyama's eyes are so clear and so blue.

"Does it have to be you?" Shouyou tries to tease, though his voice still sounds tacky and damp.

Kageyama throws him a bewildered look. "I'm the one who's here, dumbass. Who else?"

Shouyou laughs out loud, his voice echoing in the wilderness. The feeling of pleasure admixed with relief is potent; he almost chokes with it. _As long as I'm here..._ "Okay. I suppose I'll just have to settle with that."

"I'm going to push you and your bike off this cliff," Kageyama says as he saunters to his own bicycle. He doesn't mean it one bit.

...

They arrive at the guesthouse by twilight. At the entrance, a plump woman greets them. She's wearing a silver _yukata_ with majestic, ocean wave patterns on the sleeves, her hair in a tight bun. She's also holding a half-empty beer mug, for some reason.

"Hi! I'm Hinata Shouyou. I was the one who called this morning," Shouyou says, bowing. "This is my friend, Kageyama Tobio."

"Welcome! You two look tired. You must have ridden a long way." She lets them in. "I'm Igarashi Asako. We've had this guesthouse for almost fifty years, but this has been the home of Igarashis in Wakamatsu for more than a century, so I hope you'll enjoy the feel of this place." She points to the staircase. "Since there are no other guests, you'll be staying in the _kura_ , the largest room."

As they walk upstairs, Shouyou waggles his eyebrows at Kageyama, which the latter steadily ignores.

When they're left in their shared room, Shouyou runs to the _futon_ stationed near the window, almost tripping in his haste, and spread eagles over the bedding. He sighs in content. "Man, I'm disgusting," he says aloud. "I should probably clean up first."

Kageyama takes out the _yukata_ s in the drawers. "You just realized that now?"

"No shame in admitting it, though," Shouyou says, laughing, as he pulls off his shirt and socks. "Who's gonna take a shower first?"

Kageyama narrows his eyes at him. "Idiot. You're already undressing here."

"I was asking since it's polite to ask, Stupid-yama. Do you want to go?"

Kageyama falls silent for a moment, before turning away fast. "You go first. Make it quick. I feel sticky as shit."

Shouyou salutes at him. "Yes, yes."

...

They get called for dinnertime at eight. It's bright in the hallways with all the hanging lights and summer lanterns. In the dining area, their food is already served on the low-set table. Kageyama and Shouyou sit beside each other, their elbows knocking.

They're served with grilled white-spotted char, the fish slowly cooked by the fire that it's good enough to eat from head to tail. There are also grated bamboo shoots and Japanese beef stew with a lot of scallions and potatoes. When Igarashi opens the lid of the rice bowl, steam flurries out in mushroom-like puffs.

"Thank you for the meal," they both say, and then take a helping of rice. Igarashi keeps them company. She's already at her third beer for the evening.

"Your food is _delicious _!__ " Shouyou exclaims at Igarashi, who's surprised at first, before beaming. "What did you use for this?" He gestures at the fried dumpling soup.

"Ahh!" Igarashi clasps her hands together, thinking. "That? I added onion leaves, some grated yam, _dashi_..."

"It's a little fatty. Makes it taste nice," Kageyama remarks almost inaudibly. "Is there some kind of oil in this?"

"I added egg yolks, actually." Igarashi directs her smile at him. "I'm glad you liked it, Kageyama-san."

"Egg yolks, huh." Shouyou looks down at his own dumpling soup. The clean-tasting egg fat gives a nice balance to the meaty pork fat and the strong _dashi_ stock. It's definitely something he should try when he gets home.

Kageyama is quiet as he eats. He's usually quiet when he eats. Hosts in small-time _ryoukan_ s around Satomori would have fussed about him, questioning anxiously about the food, the trip, and dropping suggestions on what they should do and the places they should see. But Igarashi must have already had many guests like Kageyama, so she leaves the two of them be, drinking her beer at the corner and waiting for them to finish.

Once they're done, they thank Igarashi for the meal and head upstairs. _The food is really good_ , Shouyou thinks, somewhat sourly. He's shocked at the strength of his disappointment in not cooking today's dinner himself—which is undoubtedly a ridiculous thought. It's not like he can cook every time for everyone, can he? Besides, Kageyama seemed to have greatly enjoyed their meal, judging from the way he kept silent all throughout...

Shouyou's still mulling over the reasons for the edge in his thoughts when Kageyama closes the lights. As he pulls the blanket over himself, he laughs quietly. He's done a lot of thinking today. His brain's maxed out.

"Is there something funny?" Kageyama speaks in the dark.

"Oh, nothing," Shouyou says, thoughts scattering. "It's fine, sorry 'bout that."

The room goes silent.

"Hinata."

Shouyou's fluttering eyelids quickly open. "Yeah?"

"Why Satomori?"

"Huh?"

"You said... that all of your friends are gone. Why did you stay?"

Kageyama seems to be in that unusual mood for asking questions. Shouyou doesn't know what to make out of that, though it's certainly not unwelcome. It's sort of funny that this is probably one of the few times Shouyou's been asked that. The villagers hadn't really questioned it, even when kids started high-tailing it out of the place as soon as they graduated high school. It makes it seem like his choice was expected. Inevitable.

Shouyou's mouth downturns. He thinks about whether he should give Kageyama the longer version or the shorter version of his answer, and ultimately settles with the longer one. "Food is something that I love. Really love," he says. "I love eating it, and I love making it."

Kageyama doesn't respond to that, so Shouyou continues, "Natsu says I have more of an obsession, really, but I don't know if you could call it that—wouldn't you want to have good food when you're hungry?"

Kageyama grunts. "And you're always hungry."

"Right, right!" Shouyou says with a chuckle. "See what I mean? Oh well, who cares what everyone else thinks, though, right? And you know, Kageyama... you know that earliest memory you have as a kid? I could still picture mine clearly. What I can remember was my dad, little Natsu and I waiting at the table, and then Gran was serving us _tamago gohan_. I took a bite—and then there's just— _boom! Bam! Bwah_!" He stretches out his hands in the dark. "Fireworks in my mouth! Who would've thought a simple dish like eggs on rice could taste like that? Yet she made it that good!"

Shouyou remembers his earliest thought being, _Woah! I want to be like that_.

"I wanted to be as good as my grandmother in cooking, so badly, even without magic like hers," Shouyou says. "I wanted to be good because I _don't_ have magic. I want to be best at it, to surpass her. She teaches me things, and I try to make them my own."

Kageyama shifts under the covers. "I can't imagine competing with my own grandmother."

Shouyou grins widely at the ceiling. "Families can bring out the best—or the worst—in you, Kageyama-kun. Haven't you heard?"

"Doesn't make it any less weird."

Shouyou laughs. He's got an excellent point.

"So you stayed... because you want to beat your grandmother?" Kageyama says.

"Uh, a little of that, I guess? I mean—I _want_ to, and it's definitely one of the reasons why I'm still in Satomori. But you know... There's a lot more to food than just cooking, right?"

This one's harder to explain. He had this weird thought initially when he was on summer break during his first year in high school. He had bicycled for almost three hours to buy groceries. He was looking for _soba_ , and when he got to the correct aisle, he stared blankly at the different colored plastic packets and thought— _wow_.

Shouyou shakes his head, trying to focus. "Did you know there are many types of _soba_?"

"... Yes?"

"Just in case you didn't know, well, there's a _lot_! Hokkaido makes their own variety of _soba_. Nagano, too. I only knew about it in high school. I suppose it's not really common knowledge, but..." Shouyou inhales deeply. "Don't you respect people who know so much and can do all sorts of things? Those folks—you respect them more, and you trust them.

"I then realized I wasn't content with just cooking. I want to do everything. Planting, harvesting, cooking, sharing. And I can't do all that in the city, or anywhere else. That's why..." Shouyou tapers off.

It's silent again. Kageyama doesn't seem to have anything to say to that, which Shouyou partly expects. Not everyone would be able to understand his reasoning. Besides, Kageyama grew up in the city. Their lives are totally different from the get-go.

Still, it's mortifying to hear nothing after what seems like hours of divulging his relationship with food and the village. Shouyou might as well have bared his soul here, jeez.

"So that's that," Shouyou finishes lamely.

Again, no response. Has Kageyama fallen asleep? Did Shouyou bore him?

Shouyou shuffles out of his _futon_ and flicks the lamp switch.

Brightness floods their section of the room. Kageyama's resting on his side, his body facing Shouyou's. He's shielding his eyes from the light.

"What the hell?" Kageyama screeches. "Why did you turn on the light all of a sudden?"

"I thought you were asleep!"

"Turn it off! My head hurts."

Shouyou does. "You don't leave people hanging like that in a conversation," he says, puffing his cheeks. " _Rude_ , Kageyama." He begins to settle back on his _futon_.

Kageyama kicks him, but there's no force to it. "I wasn't leaving you hanging. I was thinking."

"About what?"

After a beat, Kageyama responds, "That I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours."

Shouyou turns to his side and looks at where he thinks Kageyama's face would be. It's quite hard to tell in the dark. "Nothing much, really," he says, acknowledging. "Anyway, you can just ask me. There's nothing wrong with that." He then laughs. "Like what you just did earlier. Right?"

Kageyama kicks him again, but this time, he doesn't pull back his leg far. Shouyou can feel the heat of his skin near his own.

"Good night," Kageyama says, voice rough.

Shouyou tucks himself in and smiles at Kageyama's outline in the shadows. _I wasn't leaving you hanging_. Right. "Good night, Kageyama-kun."

__

~O~

The next morning, they leave a little later than planned. Igarashi brought them a lot of local treats to try, and they couldn't bring them all with them, so they had to eat the different kinds of millet dumplings before setting off. It's a little difficult, biking with all those sweets sloshing inside your stomach.

It's also kind of funny, since they're heading to Shochiku next, a town known for their confectionery. Much of Satomori and Shizumori's sugar produce gets transported there, where decades-old dessert shops and bakeries file along the main streets. Shouyou has been in their town square a lot, and he wants to bring Kageyama to _Tsuiteru_ , his all-time favorite ice cream store.

They have to get across another set of mountains and another high pass before they get to Shochiku. The road is wider this time, and much more level, so they're not out of breath when they reach the top.

Seventy kilometers on, they finally reach Shochiku. There aren't as many rice fields as in Satomori or Matsusaka, so they get to the residential area pretty quick. Most of the storehouses are made with either cement or red bricks, with intricate animal designs on their facades. At the one with the faint aquamarine walls and sea turtle stone carvings, Kageyama stops to stare.

"You like this one?" Shouyou says as he backtracks.

"Yeah..." Kageyama says. "It looks... cool."

"Bet you don't have this in Tokyo."

"A lot of people don't own houses in Tokyo," Kageyama says pensively. "They rent." He kicks the bike stand and they're off again.

Shouyou decides to take the roundabout way to _Tsuiteru_ so that Kageyama can see more of the storehouses. "Did you have a house in Tokyo?" he says.

"I rent too."

"Ahh." Shouyou frowns. It must be weird, not having your own home. But perhaps city people think of their high-rise studios and townhouses differently, like a separate entity from themselves. "You haven't been back for a while, though. Would they still charge you for it?" Natsu had mentioned that prices of apartment buildings in Tokyo are astronomically high. Kageyama's landlord might blow a gasket when he comes back.

"I... somebody's taking care of it, so..."

"Ahh, that's good, then!" Shouyou slows to a stop. "We're here, we're here! S'one of the best places I've ever had ice cream—if not _the_ best."

They bring their bikes to the metal racks. Kageyama stares at the facade again, a pair of _koi_ fish swimming in the configuration of yin and yang. Watching him, Shouyou recalls the time they went out scooping goldfish. He snickers at the memory.

The wind chimes ring when they enter the store. "Welcome!" a woman in a burgundy apron bows at them. When she spots Shouyou, her face lights up. "Shou-chan! Oh my, how have you been? It's been way too long!"

Shouyou places a hand on his nape. "It's really been, Hoshi-san. I'm doing great! As apologies for being a sucky customer, I dragged my friend out here to try your ice cream."

"You told him nothing but good things, I hope," Hoshi says. She then turns to Kageyama, and her expression changes. She looks very startled.

Kageyama's head is tilted to the side, appearing just as surprised.

Shouyou tugs at his shirt sleeve. "Kageyama?"

"Kageyama?" Hoshi mutters. And then, she exclaims, "Tobio-chan? Is that you?"

_Tobio-chan?_

"Aren't you Mayaka-chan's kid?" Hoshi scans Kageyama's face. She then says before Kageyama can reply, "Why, yes. Yes you are! You have her eyes!"

"Hello," Kageyama says, confused. "I'm sorry, you're...?"

Hoshi beams at the both of them. "I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Hoshi Ryo. I'm a good friend of your mother's. Heavens, it's been so long since you and your mother came here! You've grown so tall, Tobio!"

Shouyou gapes. " _He_ used to come here?" he says. "With his mom?"

"Years ago. Tobio was still so little. Could hardly talk and walk. This is such a pleasant surprise! How is Mayaka?"

"I..." Kageyama becomes shamefaced. "I haven't talked to her for a while, but she's doing well."

"Where is she now?"

"Sendai, with Dad."

"Mmm. Just as she told me she would be." She seems very happy with that. "Now come! Let me get you two whatever you want! It's on the house!" She bounds for the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

Shouyou pulls out a chair with enough force to elicit a high, shrill noise as the legs grated against the floor. "I didn't know you've been here already," he hisses at Kageyama, feeling betrayed.

"I don't remember." Kageyama looks pained. "I would have told you if I did."

 _Really? You would?_ Shouyou thinks resentfully. He settles with letting out a dissatisfied huff and hands him the menu. "Whatever. Go pick something. You heard her."

"Which one tastes good?"

"Why are you asking me? You must've had something here already, haven't you?"

Kageyama mirrors Shouyou's furious stance. "I told you, I don't _remember_."

They glower at each other for quite a while, and then Shouyou sighs in resignation. It's not like he's going to win in this angry staring game, when Kageyama has had more practice. "You'll like the blueberry shortcake. I don't know. Maybe."

Kageyama blinks at him. He opens his mouth, probably to say something stupid, but Hoshi comes in with a tray of food and utensils.

"Here are cinnamon rolls. The foreigners like these particularly," she says. "Have you decided on what you want?"

"Blueberry shortcake," Kageyama says stiltedly.

"That's your mother's second favorite!" Hoshi says gleefully. "Incredible. Like mother, like son. You used to only like the milk-flavored soft serve when you were a boy."

 _He still does_. "What's his mom's favorite?" Shouyou asks. "I'll have that, then."

Hoshi smiles. "Vanilla sweet cream with roasted chestnuts."

Shouyou hasn't had that before, which is great. "Sounds good to me!"

Hoshi goes behind the glass display. She takes out two bowls and places three scoops for each flavor. She adds chocolate wafers at the sides. "Would you like chocolate syrup in yours, Shouyou?"

"Nope, it's fine!"

After washing the stainless steel scoop, she serves them the ice cream and sits on their table. She then looks at Kageyama like she can't believe he's here. "This brings back memories," she says. "You were a little kid then! Time flies really fast."

"Iwasa—I mean, Kageyama-san and you were friends, you said?" Shouyou asks her, fiddling absently with his spoon. "She came here often?"

"Oh, yes! We were classmates in middle school. Well, everyone in our grade was our classmate, back in our time." Hoshi laughs. "Back when my dad still managed the store, we came here after school was over. Dad liked giving her free samples to taste. She had an amazing set of taste buds, that Mayaka."

Shouyou looks at Kageyama briefly. "And she brought Kageyama-kun here?"

"More than twenty years ago. She left when she married, but she used to visit her hometown during the summer, and sometimes she visited me here in Shochiku."

Kageyama mumbles, "I don't remember much. Sorry. My memory's been... unreliable lately."

Hoshi shushes him. "Oh, Tobio, I wouldn't expect you to remember much at that age," she says warmly. "I suppose it's enough if one person at least remembers an encounter."

Shouyou brings his spoon to his mouth, and his eyes widen. _What the heck?_ "This tastes—"

"Wonderful? Of course. Mayaka-chan helped make that flavor."

Shouyou kicks Kageyama under the table. "Hey, can you ask your mom to come down here in Kamiyama? I want her to taste test my food!"

Kageyama growls at him. "Are you even hearing yourself?" he says. "That's such a weird request to make."

Shouyou shrugs. "I don't care. If there's someone out there who's got superior taste buds than yours, then I gotta ask, right?" He smirks. "If you're the king of palates, then she must be..." He snaps his fingers. "I got it—the grand _queen_!"

"You're shit at naming things," Kageyama says.

Hoshi chuckles at them. "Ahh, I'd really love to see Mayaka-chan someday." Her smile grows dim. "Sadly, we've lost touch. She must've changed her number and forgot to send me a text. But I still think of her fondly, of course."

Kageyama seems to be considering that, at least. "I'll... try to ask her," he says.

Hoshi then begins to talk in earnest about her teenage years, the things she did alone, with Mayaka, or with the other kids. It's always strange and interesting to hear about these lands Shouyou knew so well in another time and in someone else's perspective. Shouyou can glean that it was both tougher and easier back then, when there were no mobile phones or high-speed internet or credit cards, no skyscrapers or insane rent prices.

When their conversation reaches a lull, it's already a quarter before two in the afternoon. Hoshi lets them go when Shouyou and Kageyama both make a promise to come back soon.

"Your mom seems really cool," Shouyou says when they're walking towards the bike rack. "What if I let her taste our _unagi_ and she'd say it tastes like crap?"

"She wouldn't. And it's not." Kageyama twists the handlebars to the left. "You really want to meet her?"

"Yeah, duh. Who wouldn't want to meet the grand queen?"

Kageyama flounders for a minute, his ears pink. "I'll ask her if she wants to visit here. Maybe she'll come."

"Awesome. Thanks." He hopes Mayaka-san isn't as grouchy and churlish as her son over here, but from what he can gather from Hoshi, she seems like a nice, helpful woman. Maybe if Shouyou asks questions, she'd answer them properly.

...

They're still far from their guesthouse in Nishiazuma and it's getting late. The sun has almost set, and there aren't that many street lights in this area. The roads in this side of the valley aren't that dangerous, but it's also nothing to scoff at. His dad used to tell him about the woodland spirits that roam in the dark and kidnap unsuspecting cyclists, and young Shouyou had been scared straight.

And then—he hears a high-pitched rumble.

Shouyou hits the brakes and chortles so hard he almost falls off his bike.

Kageyama stops as well, tires squealing. He turns to Shouyou. " _Oi_!" he yells, embarrassed and incensed in equal parts.

"Did your stomach just growl?" Shouyou says. "After all that stuff we ate?" This guy is _unbelievable_.

Kagemaya takes a swipe at his head and Shouyou ducks, laughing all the while.

"Come on, follow me." Shouyou steps on the pedals. "I know a place where we can eat first."

They cycle further, and after five hundred meters or so, Shouyou leaves the main road and takes a right to a dirt path. Small yellow lanterns guide the way. There's the faint sound of water flowing from the nearby stream. Once Shouyou sees the familiar maple and evergreen shrubs, he dismounts and pushes his bike along the trail.

The path leads to an open space, where there are peeled, rotting logs stacked together near a lamp post, and numerous, wide tree stumps. Shouyou takes a seat in one of them and moans as he stretches his aching legs.

"This is a park," Kageyama says, placing his bike down and sitting next to him.

"Uh-huh. We can eat here."

"What?"

Shouyou takes out two _bento_ s and disposable chopsticks from his rucksack. He holds out Kageyama's share, but Kageyama doesn't appear to see it. He's staring straight at Shouyou.

"When did you make this?" Kageyama questions.

"This morning." Shouyou places the _bento_ and chopsticks on Kageyama's lap. "I asked Igarashi-san if I could borrow her kitchen for a while." It's a good thing Igarashi-san was nice enough to let him. She even allowed Shouyou to use her own fresh ingredients. "I made us fried pork with cherry tomatoes and rice. It's definitely gotten cold now, though."

"You were cooking this morning? Before we had our breakfast?" Kageyama says. "I thought you were in the shower."

"Hey! I don't shower _that_ long."

A moment passes between them, staring at each other, before Kageyama's eyebrows knit together and he looks away, down to his _bento_ instead. When he unwraps the cloth, his face twists. "Thank you," he mutters. He sounds overwhelmed.

Shouyou's lips upturn. In the face of such sincerity, his earlier irritation dissipates like fine dust in the wind. "Don't mention it."

As they eat, Shouyou decides to share how he discovered this secluded park. He found it when he was fifteen, exploring Kamiyama on his own, and (quite stupidly) followed a funny-looking badger that piqued his interest. He almost got lost until he stumbled across the lanterns.

"I think the townspeople got them 'cause hikers and cyclists get lost here a lot," Shouyou says. "It was such a stroke of luck. I came here when it was smack in the middle of winter. It was so cold, my water froze as soon as I poured it in my cup!"

"Why were you out here in the winter?"

"It's sorta nice riding in the snow." Everything looked soft, muffled and peaceful, blanketed by the snow.

"At least you didn't die," Kageyama tacks on helpfully.

Shouyou grins and sets his empty _bento_ aside. "At least," he agrees. He turns to Kageyama. "You finished with that? Gimme. I'll wash it when we get to our _ryoukan_."

Kageyama nods, shoulders stiff. "Thank you."

Shouyou wrinkles his nose. "You sound so weird when you're being nice," he says. "It's really fine, don't mention it."

"No, I—" Kageyama's expression contorts again, grimacing, like he's stepped on something sharp. "I should, because you're always..." His gaze drops to his feet. "I didn't know what to expect, when I drove from Tokyo to my mom's hometown. I just wanted to be away for a while. There was nothing in my apartment. Nothing in my fridge. I woke up that morning and my head hurt and my stomach was growling, and I didn't have anything, and I just... fled."

Shouyou rises to his feet and crouches in front of Kageyama. "It was raining hard that spring morning," he says obligingly.

"Yeah, it was."

"At least you didn't die."

Kageyama smirks bitterly at him. "At least." His hands clench around the _bento_ , his knuckles turning white at the effort. "I'm a volleyball player."

"A what?"

"I play volleyball," Kageyama says. "Professionally."

"Oh." Heat shoots through Shouyou's insides. "That's—" He clears his throat. " _Incredible_." He hadn't really played in a lot of volleyball games—hardly any men were into the sport during his school years—but Shouyou remembers liking the feel of the solid ground propelling him up, allowing him to smack the ball to the opposite side of the court. "What position do you play?"

"Setter."

Shouyou huffs out a laugh. Of course Kageyama would find success in playing that ridiculously difficult, least flashy role ever. "You must be good if you're in the pro leagues or something."

Kageyama squints at the ground. "I haven't played in a proper game in a while."

"How long?"

"Two years."

That's... long. Shouyou holds back a shudder as the wind faintly passes. "Why?"

"I—I couldn't. I was fucking up a lot. I fucked up my head."

"Your head?"

Kageyama nods. "Concussions," he says. "Too many of them. Everything was too bright, and my ears kept on ringing. They started benching me when I was fucking up too many times, and during the next season when they saw I still wasn't fine, the team put me on injured reserve." He licks his lips. "It was in March. Two years ago."

 _"I don't do well under bright lights,"_ Kageyama had said before. _"Makes my head hurt."_

_"Why?"_

_"I... I don't know."_

Shouyou inhales sharply. Now he knows.

"I'm getting better now, I think," Kageyama mutters, looking up. His eyes are rimmed with red. "I think the food helped."

Shouyou swallows down the painful lump in his throat. "Of course it did," he says, mortified at how damp his own voice sounds. "Food fills you up and nourishes you. That's kids' stuff. _Stupid-yama_."

Kageyama watches him openly, and then smiles, slow and small. "I hadn't anticipated how much it would," he says.

Shouyou laughs at himself. At this situation. He's always been such a horrific crier. Thank the gods Kageyama's not making fun of him right now. He wipes his tears away with the back of his hand. "I always make the breakfast of champions," Shouyou says. "It's good you're now acknowledging that."

Kageyama snorts. The smile is still on his face. "You're really good, but you can still do a lot better."

Shouyou's heart warms. "Yeah." He unfurls Kageyama's fingers on the _bento_. It pries away with ease. "I know I can."

When Shouyou moves in for a hug, Kageyama's body melds in just as easily. 

~O~

They're on the last leg of the trip. They woke up at the crack of dawn so that they could get to Kochiko by seven in the morning. They're meeting Izumi at the docks, at a time the place isn't too crowded.

When Shouyou gets a whiff of salt in the air, he tells Kageyama to look at his right from time to time. "We're almost in the bay area!" he shouts. "It's beautiful in the morning. Just watch."

In a few hundred meters, the hills open up and reveal the warm, southern waters, calm and hypnotically blue. The sun is already at that point in the sky where it makes the ocean seem like it has white crystals winking at the surface. Shouyou lets out a low whistle. The air is cool and welcoming.

Kageyama's gaze gets lost in the ocean waves. He peers at the road just long enough to watch out for a car or a bend in the road, before turning back to the bay again.

Shouyou knows the feeling. The view up here has always been exquisite.

Amazingly enough, Kageyama calls for them to stop at a sign post near the dikes. They pull their bikes and stand at the concrete embankments.

"Izumi, Koji and I used to come here a lot as kids," Shouyou says, breaking the silence. "We used to catch fish with our makeshift fishing rods. Izumi must have imprinted on this place. He moved here with his family as soon as he graduated high school."

"It's a good place," Kageyama says.

"Yeah. I think so, too."

"Hinata."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," Kageyama says, looking far beyond than what Shouyou's eyes can trace. "For letting me see this."

That spell from last night hasn't worn off yet, it seems. Shouyou bumps Kageyama's shoulder with his own. "You're welcome."

...

"Shou-chan! Over here!" a man by the dock yells.

Shouyou waves both of his hands, jumping as high as he can. "Izumi!" he cries.

Kageyama slides behind the empty fish crates, looking every bit like he wants the sea to swallow him up.

Izumi jogs to them. The residual water inside his black boots causes a squelching noise when he stops in front of them. "You crazy punk, I was worried when you called. I thought something happened to you back in Satomori." He grins widely. "I can't believe you just wanted to come by for a drink!"

"Why is it that you guys always think I'm the one causing trouble out there?" Shouyou says, and Izumi pulls him in a tight hug.

When they separate, Shouyou yanks Kageyama by his windbreaker. "Izumi, this is Kageyama Tobio. He's my friend from Tokyo. Kageyama, this is Yukitaka Izumi."

Izumi's mouth forms an 'o'. "You're Shou-chan's new neighbor, aren't you?"

Kageyama appears to be studying Izumi closely, assessing his sun-bleached hair, brown eyes, the splash of freckles across his face. "Ah, yes," Kageyama then answers.

"Honored to meet you," Izumi says. "So how much about Shouyou's berserk childhood days do you know already?"

"Not a lot."

"Ahh! Well then, do I have some good news for you!" He gestures at the two to follow him and starts walking north, where the fish market is. "Let me show you around town as I regale you with stories of Hinata Shouyou's glory days."

Shouyou's face flames. "Izumi! No fair!"

Izumi chuckles good-naturedly. "Don't worry, I won't say anything indiscreet to your new friend," he says as he sidles up to Kageyama, grinning from ear to ear. "Just let me have some fun at your expense. It's been a while."

They stroll along the wharf where several vessels are tied to a nearby jetty. Izumi shows them his family's fishing boat, a large motorized boat that could carry up to ten tonnes in weight. Beside it are other motorized canoes stacked to the gills with fishing lines, small metal drums, and set nets.

Izumi then brings them to the sorting hall, where most of the magic happens. This is where the fresh catch are settled and organized in cases, before they're iced and boxed for sale or shipment. Local auctions are also done here, but it usually happens at four in the morning, before the fish vendors open their stores.

"Would you like to cook lunch and dinner for us, Shou-chan?" Izumi says, leading them to the fish stalls.

Shouyou cheers, "You bet!"

"Alright. I think we have a couple of snappers here, and some wild bass from this morning. Your favorites." Izumi then smiles up at Kageyama. "Shouyou's a very good cook. Did you know that?"

"I know," Kageyama says.

Shouyou elbows Kageyama in the rib. "Be more complimentary, Kageyama-kun!" he whines. "Don't let Izumi think I'm losing my touch."

Kageyama stares at Shouyou flatly, and Izumi laughs out loud. "I see you've met your match, Shou-chan!" To Kageyama, he then says, "Shouyou's super great at making friends, both guys and girls, but for some lame reason, he's absolutely _terrible_ with the ones he likes. There was this quiet, pretty girl in our class in high school. Was it Furuyu-san, Shou?"

Shouyou pulls a face. "What about Miyu-san?"

"Didn't you two date for around three weeks until she dumped you?" Izumi chokes back a laugh. "Because you gave her sweet buns and cookies every day?"

"How should I know she was on a diet?" Shouyou exclaims. "She hadn't told me!" _And I hadn't asked,_ Shouyou concedes, but that's not the point. Who the heck doesn't like homemade cookies?

Izumi shakes his head, amused. "You always go all out. It was cute for probably a day or two, but you really overwhelmed her." He shakes his head again. "So Kageyama-san, if you're having girl troubles, come to me and Koji instead of this guy. Yeah?"

Kageyama frowns and nods tersely.

The old ladies in their black wetsuits beckon them over, showing them their catch of rock oysters and abalone. Shouyou buys a few of each; they're flavorful and tender when grilled with some mild sauce. Once they're done shopping for fish and spices, Izumi drives them to his house in the hinterland, their bikes tied at the back of his white LCV with thick, nylon ropes.

Izumi's home is a two-story dwelling with low, clay-tiled roofs and gray walls. Tall garden shrubs outline the perimeter, and tufts of sedges grow in the cracks of the cemented path to the entrance. Shouyou's only been inside thrice; he recalls the interior looking very much like the old Yukitaka farmhouse in Satomori.

And it does—the furniture is still the same, and there are still brightly colored _daruma_ dolls adorning the shelves. The only difference is the packets of unused baby diapers, stationed in random spots in the living room.

Shouyou heads straight for the kitchen (he hears Izumi say "one-track mind, this guy") and dumps the seafood in a bowl in the sink. He takes a chopping board and slices the chives and lemon grass.

"Shou-chan," Izumi says from behind him. "There's octopus in the fridge, if you want."

Shouyou brightens. He says over his shoulder, "Ohh! Do you have _mirin_?"

Izumi snorts, as if Shouyou just slighted his dearest ancestors. "Of course we do. Check the lowest shelf."

"Thanks!"

"Nobody's home today, Kageyama-san. Would you like a tour of the house? We don't have a lot, but..." Izumi says.

Kageyama's gaze meets Shouyou's, asking wordlessly.

Shouyou smiles with his eyes. _Izumi's really nice,_ he wants to convey. _Go chat with him for a while._

Kageyama nods. "Thank you for having me," he says to Izumi, who reddens slightly.

"Don't be so formal with me! Aren't we the same age?" Izumi leads the other man to the narrow hallway.

Shouyou listens until Izumi's voice becomes inaudible.

...

If lunch was a muted affair, dinner was even quieter. The trip's exhaustion must have finally caught on to Kageyama, for he had almost fallen asleep over his bowl of octopus rice. He's now laid in Izumi's older brother's bed, completely dead to the world.

Shouyou and Izumi are drinking by the sea dikes where there's a nice breeze. The waves gush and hit the basalt blocks, exhaling its mist across the shoreline. Loose from the alcohol, Shouyou opens the conversation with Koji's probable marriage.

"Who would have thought?" Izumi says. "Wasn't he always that pitiful guy in our town who couldn't get a word in when there's a girl around? I didn't know he had it in him."

"There's prol'ly something in the city," Shouyou says. "Something in the air. Makes people bolder. More straightforward."

"You'd fit right in, if that's the case."

"Well, I am pretty sophisticated."

"I said straightforward," Izumi retorts with a chuckle. "Those words aren't the same even if they sound alike. Get your Japanese right."

Shouyou grins lopsidedly. "You know, if you have some kind of secret girlfriend, you'd better come clean now. I don't think I can handle hearing stuff like that anymore from your mothers."

"That must've been awkward."

"Sorta. I—I got mad."

" _You_ got mad? At Koji's mom? What, did you yell at her?"

"No! And I wasn't mad _at_ her." Shouyou takes another gulp. "It's funny. I didn't even realize I was mad until I got myself away from the village. And..." Shouyou purses his lips. "Kageyama helped."

Izumi lifts an eyebrow.

"He pointed it out to me." When he sees Izumi fighting back a smile, Shouyou asks, "What?"

"Nothing. Just... Gloomy-san didn't seem like the type that'd force an introspection."

They both laugh.

"You'd be amazed," Shouyou says. "He can be an asshole, but he's mostly nice. He's just exceptionally terrible at words."

"Yeah, no kidding. That was the awkwardest house tour I've ever given, mind you," Izumi says, looking bemused. "He didn't seem to have any trouble with you, though."

Shouyou smiles at his beer can. "I guess I've just known him longer."

"Shou-chan."

"Yeah?"

"You said you got angry."

"Uh-huh."

"Do you want to get married?"

Shouyou pauses. "Not really." He shrugs. "When we were kids, I really thought that around this time, we would have—settled down or whatever. You know?" Life just didn't turn out the way Shouyou expected it would.

Izumi hums. "Yeah. People tend to get married early, in this place."

"Do you want to get married, Izumi?"

Izumi nods resolutely. "And kids. I want kids. Maybe three, like my older brother has. They're a lot of trouble, but it's probably worth it. They're really cute, too." He then snickers. "I'll have to find a girlfriend first."

"Don't worry!" Shouyou encourages. "You'll reel one in before we turn thirty, for sure."

"Girls aren't fish," Izumi chides, but he's smiling. "And why ever are you giving me a deadline for, bastard?" He waves at a distant set of people hanging around by the wharf. They must be fishermen, Izumi's colleagues. Shouyou sees them holler and wave back.

"You must be enjoying this place, aren't you?" Shouyou observes.

Izumi doesn't seem keen on answering that. His eyes are strangely pensive under the moonlight. "When I look at you, Shou-chan, I think about flying," he says instead. He halts for a moment. "Remember that time you ran away?"

Shouyou sits up straighter. "When we were fifteen?"

"Right. Wasn't it after you and your dad fought?"

"Yeah," Shouyou says. He presses his knees to his chest. "Yeah I do." At fifteen years old, Shouyou's blood ran hot. Hotter than the mystic sun during the summer solstice. His dad might've had the same burnt orange hair and golden eyes, but Mahiro didn't have that fiery passion Shouyou is markedly known for. He got that wild streak from his mother.

Fathers and their sons rarely walk on the same road, especially when the children hit their teenage years. Shouyou and his dad were not an exception.

One time, their argument got out of hand, enough that Shouyou had shouted at his father, _"You want me to give up, like everyone here has?"_

 _"Settling,"_ his father stated. _"Putting down your roots... it's not the same as giving up, Shouyou."_

But how could it not be the same? He'd been in Satomori long enough. Even its name—sugar forest—was no longer apt to call the bitter, colorless ghost town it had become. Shouyou wanted to cook, and great food must exist in other places. _Exciting_ places. How could he stay when everything was too familiar and safe?

For young Shouyou, settling and inaction were very much the same as losing.

 _"There are some things in life,"_ Mahiro said. _"That you can't overcome just by doing things, by putting in thoughtless, reckless effort. There'll be a time that you cannot act, without deliberation, and they_ will _come soon. I'm not pushing you, son, but I am asking you to think about it."_

And Shouyou did. For eight straight days, he went around exploring the neighboring towns and villages in Kamiyama as much as he could. He biked across the bridges, ventured uninhabited forests, bathed in hot springs. For the first seven days, he was always in motion. He ate a lot of food and met a lot of people.

On the last day, on the road to Kochiko, Shouyou had stood at that same spot he and Kageyama were this morning. He stared at that same acetylene-blue ocean, for hours on end, motionless.

At that moment, something in fifteen year old Hinata Shouyou had settled.

Stillness made it easier to reflect.

"You took Kageyama to the same places you went to," Izumi says at the present time. "Didn't you?"

Shouyou makes a face. "I must be really predictable, huh?"

"Nah. It's not bad, retracing your steps. How else would you find things that you lost?"

Shouyou whips his head at that. "Do I seem... lost?"

Izumi's mouth quirks. "It's a figure of speech, Shou-chan." He sounds fond. "But what do you think?"

Shouyou sighs. "Gran said something to me before we left. She said my heart's not where it should be. That I should find it," he divulges, craning his neck up to see the stars. Some are out in plain view, twinkling faintly, though most of them remain hidden behind the night clouds. "I don't understand. It's not like I want to go away somewhere. Satomori is where I want to spend the rest of my life. I've already decided long ago."

"Not all things can be found in places. You can find them in people, too."

"Is that another figure of speech?" Shouyou asks. "Do people in Kochiko like talking in riddles?"

"More or less. I'm still assimilating." Izumi laughs and pops open another beer. "Feelings aren't rocket science to you, Shou-chan. I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough."

~O~

_June 7, 2024  
Summer_

...

Shouyou stands on his tiptoes, stretching his arms until he hears his joints creak. As his feet fall flat on the ground, the light streaming from the window hits his face at an angle, and he scrunches his eyes tightly. When he opens them again, he sees white spots in his vision.

He blinks rapidly, awareness creeping in. _Is this what Kageyama feels every morning?_ he thinks, then flinches. It's probably worse. Much worse.

He had fallen asleep in the town hall while making the banners for next week. It says _Doronko Undokai_ —Mud Sports Festival—in big, bold calligraphy. Shouyou doesn't have a particularly nice handwriting, but he's given it his best shot. Kirigaya, Iwamura and Yokohito-san have no qualms, at least.

Shouyou counts the first-aid kits for the third time, runs over the program list, and checks on all the equipment they'll be using: the different colored plastic balls, the used tires, the rectangular planks with the names of the teams written on them. He bounces on his heels, feeling feverish for some reason.

He leaves the room, searching the hallways, when he runs into Yoshida-san, one of the town's clerks. Shouyou asks for directions for the public computer room, and Yoshida cheerfully shows him the way.

Shouyou turns on the desktop computer. It takes a little more than a minute to boot completely. He opens the web browser, hesitates, before typing _concussion_ and _volleyball_ in the search bar.

It shows many websites enumerating the symptoms of a concussion: _headache, blurry vision, irritability, sensitivity to light and noise, balance problems, anxiety, lack of energy, trouble falling asleep._ One medical forum says it typically last from a few days to a couple of months. Shouyou frowns at it disbelievingly. Kageyama has had his for two years already, hadn't he?

When he scrolls down at the bottom of the results page, he sees a news article: _Star setter Kageyama Tobio sustains major season-ending injury._ Shakily, Shouyou clicks on the link.

**_Star setter Kageyama Tobio sustains major season-ending injury._**  
_NIPPON DAILY_ | _SPORTS_  
NOVEMBER 14, 2021

SENDAI - Schweiden Adlers setter Kageyama Tobio will be out for the rest of the season due to a concussion and back injury, sustained from a collision with teammate Hirugami Fukuro while playing against the Tachibana Red Falcons on September 30.

Adlers acquired Kageyama in July 2014 and has been their starting setter since he made the team. Riddled with concussion woes and shoulder injuries, this season was a downscale from his usual numbers but still recorded a prolific 11.14 ave. per sets, 11 blocks, and 6 service aces in 27 games. It is unknown whether Kageyema will be back to aid the Adlers win the championship next season.

Kageyama, who turns 25 in December, has three more years on his contract with a ¥17.4 million salary cap hit per season.

_END NOTE:_

Kageyama Tobio (born December 22, 1996) is a Japanese volleyball player, a member of Japan men's national volleyball team and V. League Division 1 Schweiden Adlers. He is a double silver medalist of the World Grand Champions Cup (2019, 2017), 2016 World Champion, and a 2016 Olympic bronze medalist. He won four championships as a setter for the Schweiden Adlers (2015, 2016, 2017, 2019), winning the MVP trophy in the playoffs in 2017 and 2019. He was named the best setter for four consecutive seasons (2015-2019), and best server for the 2016-2017 season.

"What the heck, Kageyama," Shouyou whispers as he reads through all the other articles. There are reports of Kageyama's first instance sustaining a concussion—that one time he left practice early after getting hit by a rogue ball at the back of his head. There are blurred pictures and two-minute videos of him submitted by fans, looking lost in the crowded streets of Shibuya. There's another article entitled, _Schweiden Adlers Kageyama Tobio sighted in a specialty hospital in Tokyo, raising questions about his career_ , that Shouyou refuses to read.

He spends around four hours in front of the computer until his eyes hurt, and he has to leave the town hall before it gets dark. He drives home, unseeing, and heads straight for bed, ignoring Grandma's alarmed stares. He's not hungry.

~O~

After most of his responsibilities in the town hall are done, Shouyou goes running with Kageyama a few days later. It's only two days before the Mud Sports Festival, and he hasn't asked Kageyama yet whether he wants to go. Shouyou's not even sure if Kageyama _should_ go. People would be shoving at each other in the mud. Rough housing, _hitting_. Maybe Kageyama could participate in games that are not so physical and violent.

He sneaks glances at him, observing the width of Kageyama's shoulders, the way his arm and thigh muscles shorten and stretch as he takes one long stride after another. Shouyou's skin feels hot with worry and exhaustion and something else, like a weird, ugly mix of guilt and discontent.

Shouyou makes a frustrated noise. Kageyama hears it and skids to a stop.

"What are you on about now?" Kageyama says, without preamble. He pulls his bangs back, earning Shouyou a full-on stare.

"You heard about the festival, right?" Shouyou asks, breathing heavily. " _Doronko undokai_. Mud Sports Festival."

Kageyama wipes the perspiration under his jaw. "You keep mentioning it."

Shouyou scrunches his nose. "See, we've got a great lineup of games coming up! But they're very... physical. Lots of tussling." He looks at Kageyama from under his lashes. "The villagers want you there and participate, but maybe that's not a good idea? 'Cause of your head?"

Kageyama doesn't say anything.

"Are you feeling fine? Do you need something for your head?"

"My headaches aren't as bad as before," Kageyama says, slowly, like he wants Shouyou to remember. "I told you already. I'm not delicate."

Shouyou juts out his chin. "I know you aren't, stupid. But people around you still worry, okay? That's completely normal!"

Kageyama's expression turns pinched. "If I tell you a hundred times that I'm fine, will you stop?"

"You can tell me a _gazillion_ times, and I still won't," Shouyou insists. "So we're going to have wrestling matches, obstacle races, mud sledding, _gatachari_ , dodge ball... You can just watch. Or not go at all, since that's also an option." At this, Shouyou frowns. "Whatever you decide, just tell me, and I'll go tell Yokohito-san."

Kageyama presses his lips into a thin line, before uttering, "You'll be there." It's a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah. Of course."

"Then I'll go."

Shouyou's eyes skitter to Kageyama's legs, then back to his face. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll tell them that." The smile in Shouyou's face forms, unbidden. "Do fireworks make your ears hurt?"

"... A little."

"Okay." Maybe he can do something about that.

~O~

On the day of the festival, it doesn't rain in the morning. It rarely rains in June in Satomori, but one can never be too sure.

This year, the Jun family's unused rice paddy is where the main events will be held. Early in the day, a slight fog has settled over the field due to the night's cold that crept downhill from the surrounding mountains. The nearby stream feeds the field directly with water, loosening the soil into gray slush and making weeds and ants float. The council's set up white tents at the side of the road, and trucks loaded with gallons of drinking water are parked just as close. At eight am, the fog clears, and the people start congregating at the reinforced berm, all in their soccer jerseys and loose, farming clothes.

The first event is the obstacle race. For the first half, the kids participate. There are only eighteen in town, most of them elementary school children, and they line themselves according to age. They're then grouped into three; the eldest child partners with the two youngest ones kids, and so on. A team member must pass the ball like a baton to the other person and reach the end of the course as fast as possible.

"Wooh!" Shouyou shouts, throwing up his arms. "You can do it!"

Kageyama yawns. "Who are you cheering for?"

"Mika, Kashou and Yokohito-san's kids!"

"Only one team can win," Kageyama points out.

Shouyou chortles. "It's fine. They're kids. They're having fun, and that's winning," he says.

For the second half, five middle-aged men and two women shuffle at the starting line, jeering and playfully shoving each other. It won't be a baton-style relay; the participants will have to battle each other individually.

"Who are you cheering for this time?" Kageyama asks.

"Easy! All my money's on him." Shouyou gestures at Fujita Kenji, who's smearing mud all over his good pal Nishida Takefumi's face. "Go win it all, Kenji-san! And get your oversized gut out of the way, Takefumi-san!"

Kenji laughs, clutching his sides and getting mud all over his shirt, while Takefumi leers at him. "I'll bury you alive later, Shouyou!" he yells.

Kirigaya blows his whistle, and all the contestants squawk as they trudge in the mud. Takefumi, Mud Sports' perennial cheater, grabs Kenji's and Yoshida Shinya's shirts, pulling them down as they edge along the rope netting. Kenji and Yoshida plonk face first. Resounding boos echo across the field, but Kirigaya misses the foul play, and so the whistle doesn't blow.

Mizutani and Hasegawa, the only ladies that participated in the match, are unhurriedly carrying out the relay race, taking measured steps on the slippery tires. They squeal and hold on for their dear lives when they reach the portion of the obstacle where they have to fling themselves from one wooden post to another in order to get through. The audience shout encouraging words at them.

Takefumi finishes first, eight seconds faster than Kenji and Yoshida who are tied for second. The children and elderly unite in howling obscenities at him.

...

_It's revenge time!_ Shouyou bunches his shirt sleeves up to the groove of his shoulders, arms freshly coated with mud. He bows at his opponent and gets his hands up.

"Alright now! We're having Nishida Takefumi against Hinata Shouyou for the Mud Wrestling's final round!" Yokohito announces, lips hovering close to his whistle. "Y'all folks know how long Shouyou's been participating in this event! He currently holds our record for having the most numerous wins and five championships! But after last year's tip, our beloved hometown hero is now the challenger, and is looking to reclaim his old title by taking on Satomori Wet Market's strongest butcher, public enemy number one, Nishida Takefumi!" He takes stock of their difference in physique—Takefumi's beefy arms, bullneck and beer belly, and Shouyou's short but compact build—and throws his head back in laughter. "We're all looking forward to a more interesting battle than last year's final, definitely!"

"You can run along now and head back to the kitchen, Shouyou!" Takefumi says, grinning viciously at him. "Isn't that your happy place?"

Shouyou grins back, just as snide and fierce. "You bet! And I'll put you in yours once I beat you!"

Takefumi titters. "Do your worst!"

"Don't cheat, baldy, or I'm coming for 'ya!" Yokohito says to Takefumi before blowing his whistle.

Shouyou leaps as soon as Takefumi makes a grab for him. He sashays between avoiding Takefumi's holds and forcing his larger opponent to attack from his least dominant side. Takefumi doesn't have the greatest balance, his arched feet leaving him with a weak foothold on the soft, sticky ground. Shouyou noticed that from their last encounter and from the obstacle race, and he decides to take full advantage of it this time.

The goal of the game is to pin your opponent on the mudflat or to push him out of the makeshift circle. Body throws are welcome. No punching or jabbing should be involved. Which suits Shouyou's fighting style just as well. He's not packing any pounds, but he's strong enough and agile, and he finds that he can always outmaneuver and make his bigger and stronger opponents step out of the circle themselves, if he pounces swiftly on their weak points.

Almost all of the grandmas and aunties rally behind Shouyou, crying out every variation of his name ("Shou-kun" and "Shou-chan" being the more popular ones). Grandma Eiko can be heard yelling at a distance, "Knee the bastard in the groin!"

"Pummel him, Shouyou!" Kenji crows. "Wring that fat ugly bastard's neck!"

"Gut him like a fish!" Old man Jun howls, swinging his cane wildly.

At that moment, Shouyou decides to act: he shoves Takefumi's outstretched arm by the elbow and cleanly swipes at the other man's feet with his own. Takefumi yelps, faltering, and Shouyou rams at him from behind with all his might.

The whistle blows. Takefumi has his right foot crossing the circle.

Shouyou roars in victory until he's red in the face, and the rest of the villagers erupt in cheers. He helps Takefumi up and they laugh together.

"You sneaky little shitstain!" Takefumi says, shaking his hand. "I'll get you next year!"

Shouyou gives him a thumbs-up. "I'll be waiting for it!"

"Oh my, what's this? Looks like we're having a last-minute challenger for the title!" Yokohito exclaims. "Please step in the ring, Kageyama-san!"

Shouyou can't believe his ears. He whirls around. "Kageyama?"

Sure enough, Kageyama is standing opposite him in the circle. He's traded his dry-fit shirt and black leggings for a dark blue polyester shirt and cycling shorts. He takes a step forward.

"I'm not going to fight you, Kageyama," Shouyou hisses.

"There's no punching in the rules. I checked," Kageyama says without inflection, already adopting a fighting stance. "No swiping at the head."

"But we'll be at each other's throats! I'll have to throw you down to win!" What if he rings Kageyema's head pretty badly? What the heck is he even thinking?

"Let's see if you can." Kageyama's dark eyes stare hungrily after Shouyou, blue irises filling with vicious pride. "I'm not delicate, and I'm showing you."

Shouyou glares at him. "Were you even listening to me? I wasn't say—"

"You can't hurt me, Hinata," Kageyama says. "Not now, or ever."

Shouyou blinks, and for a second, he thinks he sees a heavy, gold-base crown glinting on top of Kageyama's head, and a magnificent red cape, falling from Kageyama's broad shoulders. It's gone as soon as it appears. A trick of the light.

Shouyou blows out a breath, taking a stance. This is reckless. Kageyama's being so reckless. And what on earth for?

The whistle blows.

Kageyama immediately launches himself at Shouyou, wrapping his arms around Shouyou's waist and gripping the band around his shorts. The impact of Kageyama's chest colliding against his knocks Shouyou out of breath. In one move, he half-drags, half-lifts Shouyou to the circle border.

In panic, Shouyou shifts all of his weight onto his left side and plunges his foot on the mud with enough force to keep him from staggering backwards. His toes sting.

Kageyama still has Shouyou's arms effectively pinned to his sides in a bone-crushing half-hug. "Stop spacing out, dumbass," Kageyama says.

Shouyou grins maniacally up at Kageyama's face, his earlier hesitation dissolving. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to pin Kageyama down and not let him go. The need to win hits him like a wall, burning white hot in the pit of his belly. It spurs him to action, forcing the meat of his shoulder to connect with Kageyama's chest until they're both staggering, off-balance. Shouyou takes advantage of the shift in momentum by pushing Kageyama backwards. Kageyama's eyes widen in surprise.

And then, this time, Kageyama _completely_ lifts Shouyou off the ground. Shouyou squeaks, legs kicking in the air, his mouth tasting grass and mud. Kageyama's suddenly on top of him, his arm a steady weight at the base of Shouyou's throat.

The whistle blows again.

" _Unbelievable_! We have a new Mud Wrestling champion this year!" Yokohito screams at the side. "Newcomer Kageyama Tobio of the Iwasawa family defeats crowd favorite Hinata Shouyou in a satisfying match!"

Flat on the mud, Shouyou's still reeling. He's royally pissed at how easily Kageyama manhandled him like that. He's gratified at the knowledge that he'd given it as good as he got, at least; Kageyama's glowering down at him and panting heavily.

"Are you really a volleyball player or a sumo wrestler?" Shouyou roughly wipes the mud off the corner of his mouth. "I'm going to get back at you for that, I swear."

Kageyama squints at him. "I won because I'm strong," he says, before his eyes flit downwards. He presses two fingers on Shouyou's shoulder blades, searing like a brand on Shouyou's bare, overheated skin. "You need more power on your shoulders," he murmurs.

 _Always with the lecture_. "Did you hear, Kageyama-kun?" Shouyou tries to inject as much smugness as he can in his voice. "Whatever happens, I'll always be the crowd favorite."

Kageyama takes a handful of mud and slathers it all over Shouyou's face.

...

"Ahh, it's almost time!" Shouyou exclaims at his watch. It's already seven twenty in the evening.

Kageyama takes a huge bite from his grilled squid. "What do you mean?" he says in between chews.

"Come on, come on!" Shouyou pushes Kageyama away from the food stall.

"Quit it, dumbass! I'm going to poke my eye out with this stick—I'm walking, I'm walking—"

"Hurry! Get to the bikes!"

After Kageyama finishes eating, they cycle east; the wind is blowing insistently towards the same direction, and Shouyou has to pull back the hood of his sweatshirt constantly to keep it from falling over his eyes. A few of the villagers jovially wave at them hello as they pass. The tungsten lamp posts illuminate their path until they reach a place tucked away from the rest of the village. Shouyou resorts to turning on the flashlight on his phone, pedaling at a much slower pace. He might know this stretch of land exceptionally well even in the dark, but Kageyama has never been in this part of the village before. The crescent moon glows mutedly as it helps in showing them the way.

They arrive at the foot of a rocky hill. Shouyou has them placing their bikes under a sycamore tree.

Kageyama appraises the terrain. "We're climbing up?"

"Yeah." Shouyou had not so subtly suggested to Kageyama to change into his trail boots earlier when they went home to clean themselves up. Kageyama must have had an inkling that they were going to do a fair bit of walking tonight. Judging from the deadpan expression on his companion's face, Shouyou's right. "Let's go."

Kageyama wordlessly follows him.

It's not a difficult trek, by any means. Shouyou picked a spot where they can see much of the village and the mountainside, and the trail leading to it had been mostly cleared of sizable debris ever since Urobuchi fell down and hit his head on a jagged rock four months ago.

Shouyou looks back over his shoulder. "Do you need light?" he says, pointing at his phone.

"I'm good," Kageyama replies. "I can see you enough."

Shouyou nods and moves onward. He sings absently under his breath, a traditional folk song that the sugar farmers used to sing as they work in the fields.

_"When the rain starts flowing on the plains_

_And the wind whips at our stronghold_

_Oh, moon, let me pour you a drink_

_Let us fortify our bond_

_And shall we part, it shall be a good one_

_For your company has sustained my soul_

_For the rest of my days_

_Oh, moon, keep me in your heart_

_My body and mind will know peace."_

Shouyou's phone buzzes. A notification—it's about to start. He and Kageyama pick up the pace.

They finally reach level ground after two more minutes. Shouyou inches towards the large boulder and gestures for Kageyama to sit with him.

Kageyama complies. "What are we out here for?"

Shouyou sends him a sly grin. "Just watch."

After a few more minutes, the night sky starts to blaze with light. Fireworks, many of them. At this distance, Shouyou can only feel the faintest of vibrations on the solid rock under his palms, the explosions muffled in his ears. The different bursts of color, though, are just as vivid. A particularly massive one shields the moon and clouds in hues of green and scarlet.

Shouyou shifts and glances at Kageyama. "Does your head hurt?"

"No." Kageyama ambles to his side, splaying his legs wide to get comfortable. "I hardly hear anything." His eyes are shining.

Shouyou laughs in relief. He turns and enjoys the fireworks display again.

When it finishes, the sky turns dark once more, and all they can see are the lights from the village, spread apart like white and yellow dandelions in a meadow. Fruit bats and nocturnal birds fly across the hillside.

"You didn't bring a lamp? Good thinking," Kageyama says, but the nudge he gives Shouyou's shoulder is distinctly fond.

"Don't worry," Shouyou says. "I still got my phone with me, see?"

"What if it runs out of juice?"

"It won't. Besides, I know this place well."

"Like a wild animal."

Shouyou shrugs and smiles at the stars. "Funny. That's what the folks here call me, sometimes."

Kageyama falls silent, the air around him contemplative. "Crowd favorite, huh..." he then mumbles.

Shouyou cranes his neck. "Hmm?"

"The festival was good," Kageyama says. "All the people here are good people."

Shouyou's face splits into an even wider grin. Everything feels warm and soft and comfortable. If this moment was a house, Shouyou would never want to leave. "I'm glad," he mumbles. He suddenly gets this urge to touch something, to hold onto. He feels floaty and strange. He brings his knees to his chest and tucks his hands in between.

"You cold?" Kageyama says, frowning severely at him.

Shouyou's answering smile is weaker than his last, his thoughts a cluttered mess. "Not really," he says.

Kageyama sidles closer, pressing his side onto Shouyou, sharing heat. When he's satisfied with their positioning, he stares after the view of the village again.

Shouyou swallows, his cheeks burning up inordinately than his body. His chest feels tight and hot and empty at the same time.

Grandma's voice echoes in his head: _Your heart is not in the right place_. So where has it gone? How is he supposed to find it?

Is it bad if he wants to ask Kageyama to look for it with him?

Feeling daring, Shouyou peers at Kageyama, who's been silent as a grave. He's got his eyes still trained towards the landscape, his face looking light and peaceful.

Shouyou tears his gaze away as his stomach leadens with dread. He can feel something shift in him, making things clear and fuzzy at the same time—Shouyou wants something. That's now apparent. There's that buzzing in his chest that indicates he's getting closer, _warmer_. There's that sense of nervousness at the prospect of having something precious, or losing it.

He wonders how he seems like from the outside, at this time. If he really seems like he's leaning to his right side too much, trying to leech as much heat from Kageyama's arm and waist.

Shouyou glances up at the sky with renewed interest. Where indeed has his heart gone?

~O~

Shouyou parks his truck at the empty space behind the barber shop and brings his canvas bag with him. He's out on a grocery run, and he has to make it quick; the Kurasabe clan are having a reunion tonight, and he's been asked to cook for a family of twenty-seven. It's going to be a long day ahead of him.

He's in one of the vegetable stands, picking shallots, when a warm hand clasps his shoulder.

"Shouyou-kun! Good morning!" Yokohito says. "You in a hurry?"

"A little bit," Shouyou says, then tells him about the Kurasabe reunion as they scan the produce.

Yokohito whistles. "They're a tough crowd—there's always some feud brewing under all that fancy schmancy house gala or whatnot they have going on." He pats Shouyou on the shoulder. "Eh, but I'm not worried. If there's anyone who can make it through that crowd, it'll be you, Captain Smiles-A-Lot."

As if on cue, Shouyou beams. "They're not _that_ bad. I'm actually friends with Aika-chan and Hiroyuki-kun."

"What a people person." Yokohito starts perusing the cabbages. "I'm surprised you're not with Kageyama-san today."

Shouyou's heart skips a beat. "Eh? Really?"

"Genuinely thought you two were attached at the hip, at some point." A smile pulls at the corner of Yokohito's lips. "He seemed like a tough nut to crack, but I always knew you were gonna make him warm up to everyone eventually. How is he?"

Shouyou thinks of Kageyama, who's probably lumbering in his living room at this time half-dressed, or sleepily reading a sports magazine on his back in the dim light. "Oh, same old."

"Ahh, same old?" Yokohito parrots, his expression becoming amused. He looks up at the cloudless azure sky afterwards. "Nice day today, isn't it?"

It is quite a beautiful day. The sun is up, but the heat it brings is not scorching, just warm enough for Shouyou to be able to wear sleeveless shirts and sandals while he's out doing errands. Shouyou likes this kind of weather especially, with the ample amounts of sunshine lifting his mood quicker than any sensation could. He's always linked early summers to that time of the year in his childhood where he always had so much fun outside.

They're approaching a meat store when Yokohito's wife, Houko, saunters towards them, lugging two big straw bags filled with vegetables, rice and dried fish. Yokohito comes to his wife's aid, carrying them for her.

"I'm just about done," Houko says, sounding displeased. "They didn't have the tofu I wanted—if only you didn't forget to buy them yesterday."

"I had a lot of things on my mind," Yokohito says defensively.

Shouyou watches from behind as they walk, falling into rhythm together.

"All the wrong things," Houko attests. "We'll have to do something about that memory of yours. You've been so scatterbrained lately."

Yokohito laughs. "I have you to make up for my ailing memory, haven't I?"

Houko snorts impressively. "We're _both_ growing old, need I remind you of that, too?" She looks over her shoulder and says to Shouyou, "Yesterday, this useless man forgot that his own kids wanted him to take them swimming in the Marugame river."

Shouyou chuckles when Yokohito exclaims, "I took them still! And they had a good time. The maiden protests too much, me thinks."

Houko pinches Yokohito's ear in retaliation before turning to chat with the vendor relaxing behind the bags of soybeans and root crops.

"She really doesn't go easy on you, does she?" Shouyou whispers cheerfully to Yokohito.

"Oh, she's pleased, definitely," Yokohito mutters back. "She's got someone she can nag on constantly, and I'm a very good listener." He notices Shouyou stifling a snicker, and he angles back, "Oh, sure, go laugh all you want. When you meet someone, you'll be scrambling like crazy making all of your pieces fit. A whole lotta work before the magic. Then you'll just know these things." He winks at Shouyou. "Marriages and partnerships are strange like that."

Shouyou laughs unhindered. "I'm not doubting your words, Yokohito-san. It's just funny to hear you say all that."

Yokohito puffs out his chest. "I'm pretty darn good, huh?"

"A man of honor," Shouyou agrees easily.

~O~

"Onii-chan!" Natsu's voice is loud enough to make the phone rattle on the table. "Can't you spare me and my friends a few days?"

Shouyou dumps all the bean sprouts in the boiling water. "It depends on what you're going to give me in exchange," he says to the speaker phone.

"Isn't all my amazing love enough?"

"Nope!"

Natsu growls in reply, and Shouyou laughs freely at that.

"I wouldn't ask you if there could be anyone else! I know you're busy," Natsu says and then sighs. "Right now, you can't even talk to me properly. What are you making?"

Guiltily, Shouyou lowers the dial in the stove, bringing the boil to a noiseless simmer. "Chicken and bean sprout soup," he says. "I was just kidding, you know. I can show your friends around, of course. I'm pretty confident with all the things I know about our lovely village!" Not to mention he's had loads of practice with being Satomori's unofficial tour guide recently.

"Oh, I wouldn't go as far as saying that. I'd say Kirigaya-san and Yokohito-san are the people I'd rather have behind a tourist help desk."

"But?"

"They're _old_. At least you're younger, and with all that bountiful, useless country bumpkin trivia."

" _Hey_!"

"The last week of November," Natsu reminds him. "Okay?"

Shouyou concedes, "Alright, alright." He takes off the pot from the burner and pours it in an empty ceramic bowl.

"Excellent! And the pancakes?"

"Already figured out how to make that majesty for 'ya."

" _Excellent_!" Natsu's voice hitches up; she sounds like she's beaming extremely hard on the other end of the line. "You're the best brother ever!"

"I'm your only brother," Shouyou replies, feeling his heart swell two sizes too big. "Hang up already, Natsu. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Who cares? I've got pancakes and a free tour guide from my _bestest_ brother!" Natsu claims. She really knows how to hit Shouyou in all the critical points. "I always got time for you and Gran. I'll check up on you later!"

Shouyou chuckles. "That's my line," he says thickly. "Bye, twerp."

"Bye, onii-chan! Love you always!"

The line goes silent. Shouyou shakes off the tightness in his shoulders and continues cooking.

~O~

Shouyou wakes up to the sound of paper rustling on his nightstand. It's from the moon milk recipe he's been tinkering with since last night, the nearby fan making it flap against the breeze. He blearily places a palm over the sheet full of scribbles and yawns.

He checks his phone; his alarm is yet to go off in about half an hour. He dozes off as he waits for it to ring, before slowly slinking out of the covers.

He doesn't feel any different when he's showering and brushing his teeth, nor when he prepares himself and his grandmother a quick breakfast before putting on his hiking boots and sliding the shutters open. There's no indication that this day will be different.

But then he spots Kageyama, stretching under the shade of the tree next to Shouyou's house. He's donning his usual running clothes, but he's got his heavy-duty trail boots on instead.

Huge, fluffy clouds lumber across the muted, early morning sky. Dawn hasn't completely broken yet.

Shouyou begins, "What are you doing?" He tilts his head, his gut feeling funny.

Kageyama doesn't pause from his stretching. "Aren't you going to the shrine today?"

"I am," Shouyou says.

Kageyama shrugs. "You said I can come with you."

"Oh." Shouyou stills as a steady surge of warmth courses through him. It's way too early to be having epiphanies as huge and as complicated as this one. _Why do these things happen when it's still five in the morning?_ he thinks wildly. "Oh."

Kageyama stops and watches him intently for a moment, before approaching. He looks at the empty space Shouyou's staring at, then twists to him and says, "What are you looking at, stupid?"

Shouyou shakes his head frantically. "Nothing." His voice sounds high and airy, even to his own ears. "Let's go."

Accepting that, Kageyama walks ahead. Meanwhile, Shouyou's insides squeeze tight as he feels the earlier warmth intensifying into a burning sensation in his chest, which then spreads, without warning, to the tips of his fingers. His hand itches to touch, to hold on tightly, to never let go.

Shouyou proceeds to watch Kageyama from behind. He catalogs the way Kageyama walks, with his head held up high. The power in his legs, the breadth of his shoulders. The hairs on the back of Kageyama's head are standing up due to the static, and the sight of it makes Shouyou's heart twinge with sudden affection.

He's in love with Kageyama, Shouyou realizes. There's really no denying it. He looks on, at a loss, as he feels all his blood rushing to his face.

" _Oi_." Kageyama halts. He narrows his eyes at Shouyou. "Why are you red in the face? Are you sick?"

"I'm not!" Shouyou walks faster to match his pace.

Kageyama doesn't seem to be in an argumentative mood; he shakes his head and continues walking.

"It's my birthday today," Shouyou quips.

"I know. You keep mentioning yesterday."

"Yeah! So I can't be sick on my birthday."

Kageyama pulls a face. "Moron. You can't _will_ yourself to good health."

"I know! That's why I always pay a visit to the shrine during my birthdays, first thing in the morning," Shouyou says. "And make a wish to whoever's watching me from the heavens. It's easier to be healthy if you have someone looking out for you. Besides, birthday wishes are extremely special!"

"You're way too optimistic. Birthdays are just like any other day to me."

"Yeah, 'cause you're boring like that."

Kageyama reaches out and takes a swipe at Shouyou's head. Shouyou doesn't bother dodging—long, nimble fingers card through his messy orange locks, grabbing a handful of them. A tug rather than a pull. The familiar zing travels through Shouyou's spine, making him shudder.

 _Jeez_ , Shouyou thinks, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Is this how it's going to be from now on? All this heady anticipation? This longing? This weird, ache-y feeling of liquid warmth, always on the wings, coloring every interaction he has with Kageyama?

The man in question retrieves his hand. "Dumbass," Kageyama says quietly, his eyes a magnificent swirl of blue, and Shouyou's head turns into a messy tangle of thoughts, heat creeping up to his neck.

He's in love with Kageyama Tobio. He really must be. Insanely, chest filled to the brim in love, if the intensity of his actions and thoughts are something to go by. Shouyou turns over those words in his head multiple times, and in the end, he doesn't see anything wrong with them. He starts to accept this unexpected facet of his life with relative ease, a new kind of calm washing over him.

If this is how it's going to be, then it's not so bad, is it? Shouyou's secretly watched some of Kageyama's games on the internet, and he couldn't imagine anyone better, couldn't think of anyone who's got stronger, more capable hands than Kageyama. Shouyou's heart is in a good place.

__

...

He manages to hold up his own end of the conversation as they climb, despite this newfound awareness making him self-conscious of the things he's saying out loud. It's a little difficult to separate Kageyama Tobio, the guy who apparently Shouyou's got a serious thing for, from Kageyama Tobio, his friend, who's going through a slew of complicated stuff that Shouyou doesn't want to add up to. From their last conversation, Kageyama doesn't seem to be interested in dating, which is both great and problematic for him. Kageyama's definitely single, but does that mean he wants to stay like that for the rest of his life?

Does he really want to _date_ Kageyama?

Shouyou licks his lips and exhales loudly. His head is so full of— _thoughts_. At times like this, Shouyou wishes he's got his grandmother's gifts with him. Where does he belong in Kageyama's life, exactly?

A warm hand wraps around Shouyou's arm. Shouyou yelps; the nearby birds scatter at the sound.

Kageyama blinks at him, and then glowers. "You said you weren't sick," he says.

"I—I'm not!" Shouyou insists.

"Then why are you sighing like some teenage girl all this time?" Kageyama says. "If you want us to take a rest, then just say so. It's not like we're in a hurry, are we?"

Shouyou pauses. "No, no we're not," he says faintly. His jaw slacks as he notices the way Kageyama's staring at him, jolted by a sharp sense of recognition.

 _What the heck?_ Shouyou shouts in his head. Is this really...

"Keep your feet on the ground," Kageyama says mildly, fondness leaking through his voice like a worn out tap.

"Keep _your_ feet on the ground," Shouyou says nonsensically.

Kageyama rolls his eyes, but follows him up nonetheless.

To quell his nervousness, Shouyou starts rambling about everything under the sun: the migratory birds, how delicious ice cream cakes taste in the summer, the new moon milk recipe he's developing. About the latter, Shouyou vows that it will be the ultimate cure for Kageyama's sleeplessness, once he's completed the recipe to perfection.

"It's got cinnamon, honey and milk," Shouyou says, kicking a stray twig out of the way. "All the things you like."

Kageyama huffs. "Good."

"Yeah, it is! I tried it last night, and it worked wonders. If you mix it all together, it's like you've got a miniature sun swirling in your cup!"

"A sun? Didn't you say it's something you drink before going to bed?"

"It wouldn't hurt to get a dash of sunshine at nighttime, right?" Shouyou says. "Don't you want to be all warm and fuzzy before going to bed?"

Kageyama's eyebrows shoot up to the roots of his hair. He then laughs, his cheeks flushing at the effort. "Sunshine at night, huh. That's a first." He smiles openly, all the while making fun of Shouyou's topnotch reasoning skills.

 _Oh, jeez_. Shouyou feels a rush of emotion so powerful he's rendered breathless as he continues trekking up the incline. He tries to think back on the many times Kageyama had carped and harked at him about anything. He listens to the present, to the way Kageyama speaks. The tone, the cadence. He notices the way Kageyama's voice then peters to an amiable quiet, waiting for Shouyou to fill in the gaps.

Shouyou wonders how long this has been going on. He allows himself to hope.

 _You'll just know these things_ , Yokohito had said. Shouyou hadn't understood what he meant at the time, but now, there's no going back. Shouyou sees Kageyama, and he can't look away. He can suddenly picture all the possibilities—wonderful, endless, and somewhat terrifying—and it paralyzes him for a moment. He watches as Kageyama holds out his hand and pulls Shouyou up the end of the trail. Shouyou doesn't need the help; he's sure Kageyama knows that. But Kageyama just stills and waits impassively until Shouyou's walking by his side, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Apparently, Shouyou's not the only one who missed this.

He wonders about what he's going to say, but not about what he's going to do. This thing with Kageyama is probably the most important thing that's ever going to happen to him. He's going to have to _try_.

They've finally arrived at the wayside shrine. Shouyou and Kageyama bow twice, whisper their thanks and wishes, clap twice and bow again. Behind them, a tree sparrow sings.

 _A whole lotta work_ , Shouyou thinks. He reaches out for Kageyama's hand.

Kageyama whirls swiftly to face him, eyes bugging out in incredulity. He hasn't let go of Shouyou's hand, and Shouyou, in a shot of bravery, squeezes Kageyama's in response.

"Kageyama-kun," Shouyou starts, albeit a bit shakily. "Remember what I said? About wanting to cook for you lots?"

Kageyama visibly swallows, before nodding.

"Well, I want to do more than that now. Because I like you. Like a lot." Shouyou presses his lips firmly. He then asks, "Is that bad?"

Kageyama stands unbearably still, like he's been conked with something heavy in the head. His mouth parts a little, eyes searching for something in Shouyou's face. "Is this some kind of joke?" he blurts eventually.

In turn, Shouyou clasps Kageyama's hand in a death grip. "Shut up! I'm—I'm baring my _soul_ to you here!" he says. "What ever gave you the idea that I was kidding?"

Kageyama's face twists, a hint of nervousness there in the tiny crinkle at the ends of his mouth. "You're not kidding," he says flatly.

" _Of course_. I won't joke or lie about that. I _really_ like you."

Kageyama gulps again.

"So," Shouyou continues. His palm becomes sweaty and disgusting, but he forges on, hoping Kageyama doesn't mind too much. "I made a wish to the mountain goddess earlier. Do you want to know what I asked?"

Kageyama's hand is starting to heat up. "What?"

"That when I ask you something, you'll be honest with me." Shouyou inhales. "Whatever this is going on between us... is this what I—hope it is?"

" _What?_ "

"You and me," Shouyou clarifies. " _Us_. Do you hate it?"

Kageyama rips his gaze away, head turned to the olden stump of the pine tree. "... No."

"Do you like it, then? Us? Being together?"

A beat of silence. "Y-yeah."

Shouyou's breath escapes swiftly, heart in his throat. _Yes_. That's what it was, wasn't it? Kageyama said yes. He's okay with it. "Oh. That's awesome, then." Shouyou begins to babble, his insides feeling like starburst, "Because if you don't, and if you're just gonna pack your bags and leave tomorrow, I'm going to be _supremely_ pissed at you, Kageyama. I'm going to be so freaking pissed at you for making me feel this way, all by myself. I'll hate you _forever_."

Kageyama looks at him and frowns. "I'm not leaving tomorrow." He moves closer until there's only a few inches of space between them.

"I wouldn't have known, would I?" Shouyou says. "That's why I'm asking."

Kageyama's gaze turns dark and forthright. "You ask a lot of questions."

"Well," Shouyou falters when Kageyama leans his forehead against his own. "It's called being polite, like a normal person. You wouldn't know since you're always so vulgar."

Kageyama swallows audibly and cracks a brittle, wobbly smile, before pressing his lips on Shouyou's forehead.

"You're not being polite right now," Shouyou points out, the buzzing in his chest intensifying.

"Sure," Kageyama says easily, not caring. He presses his lips on that same spot again before wandering to Shouyou's cheeks, the slope of his nose. Shouyou has to close his eyes when Kageyama starts cradling the swell of his cheeks, gentle hands pulling his face closer.

At first, there's not much. With the chaste touch, Shouyou can only taste a hint of peppermint, his skin tingling at the sensation. Then they both tilt their heads and their mouths slide against each other, and now there's _friction_ —Shouyou's toes curl at Kageyama suddenly gasping in his mouth, moving forward to deepen the kiss. Shouyou sneaks a hand under Kageyama's shirt, bearing down insistently on the small of his back, and then Shouyou groans when he feels himself being backed against a tree. Kageyama kisses the swell of Shouyou's lower lip; an apology. Shouyou pushes his thumb at the corner of Kageyama's mouth, and his stomach does a gratified, wild flip when he feels it stretch into a smile.

Shouyou quickly realizes that he's being enveloped, wrapped up in Kageyema's body. This really isn't the same as kissing girls. Kageyama's all hard muscle, skin hot like a furnace, and heck of a lot bigger and stronger than all of the women Shouyou had made out with and dated. It's a little strange, he's finding out, but a good kind. Shouyou doesn't have to worry about pushing, or demanding too much.

Kageyama doesn't seem to have those reservations as well. One of his hands has moved to cup the back of Shouyou's head, fingers fraught with urgency as they pull Shouyou's hair tightly. The sting makes Shouyou breathe in sharply, and Kageyama's tongue does a cursory sweep of his lips, the roof of his mouth.

 _Holy shit,_ Shouyou thinks when they eventually pull away, breathing hard as his heart goes a mile a minute. He rarely swears, even in his own head, but his fogged up brain currently can't find the right words.

Kageyama's panting too, each breath hot and harsh at Shouyou's neck, torso pressing heavily against Shouyou's chest.

When their eyes meet, Shouyou grins. Kageyama's answering gaze is fierce and bright.

Shouyou's head falls forward on Kageyama's shoulder. He then laughs tiredly. "S'not terrible, was it?" he says, patting Kageyema's arm. "Good show, Kageyama-kun."

Kageyama's hand on Shouyou's head grabs a fistful of hair and yanks. "Not terrible," he agrees, voice low.

Shouyou snickers again, unrepentantly giddy. They hold onto each other for a while, and then Shouyou raises his chin at the same time Kageyama lowers his head, frighteningly in sync. Shouyou mutters a quick thanks to the mountain goddess, before closing his eyes and leaning in.

~O~

There's nothing much to do for the day, which seems to be a reward for all the work Shouyou had to do yesterday. After the town hall meeting, Shouyou did deliveries from end to end of Satomori, and then did three more in Shizumori. It's great, honest work, though the sore back and the mental fog at the end of the day are things Shouyou would rather do without.

"Say hello to Kageyama-san for me," Grandma says, all light and casual, when she spots Shouyou slipping on his shoes at the door.

Shouyou winces. "Uh. Gran, I—"

Grandma chortles, wrinkly hands on her hips. "Save your breath, my sweet," she says. "I know where you'll be. I'll hold the fort." She motions for Shouyou to leave.

Shouyou beams at her and mumbles a quick goodbye, before dashing out.

He knocks on Kageyama's door, rocking back and forth on his heels. When the door opens, Shouyou feels a burst of happiness, bright and burning.

"Hi," Shouyou says.

Kageyama opens the door wide and sidesteps, letting him in.

As usual, Kageyama has the blinds drawn together, giving the _tatami_ room a dark and eerie atmosphere. Shouyou bypasses that cold dungeon and heads to the kitchen. He inspects all of the kitchen equipment, checks the cupboard, and does a quick rundown of all the food inside Kageyama's refrigerator. There's still that mountain stream trout Shouyou brought from the last time he came. Some lemons, cabbages, carrots, a bag of rice and flour.

Shouyou hums to himself as he thinks. Kageyama hands him a glass of water before slinking back to the counter and watching him silently.

"Ahh!" Shouyou exclaims, water sputtering from his mouth. He turns to Kageyama. "Would you want to eat sweet boiled trout for lunch? And a hotpot?"

Kageyama shrugs. "As long as it tastes good," he says. He then straightens. "What do you want me to do?"

"Maybe you can clean the fish. You're really bad at chopping vegetables."

"That's because you're a shitty teacher."

"Takes one to know one."

Shouyou pulls out the chopping board and the iron pot while Kageyama takes out the fish from the freezer. They work in relative silence, only interrupted by Shouyou handing out instructions as to how Kageyama should cook the fish without the meat disintegrating in the boiling water. Sometimes, their arms brush when they're working at the same spot in the kitchen. Shouyou delights himself with leering at Kageyama, and teasing viciously when Kageyama's face turns into a remarkable shade of red.

Not bothering to drag the table out from under the counter, Shouyou and Kageyama sit cross-legged on the _tatami_. They help themselves with the hotpot and the sweet boiled trout.

"Remind me to get you some fruit in here," Shouyou says as he chews on his rice. "Let's get some watermelon tomorrow."

Kageyama takes a sip from his soup bowl. "What's your favorite fruit?" he asks.

Shouyou smiles. "Guess."

"Orange," Kageyama says wryly. " _Mikan_. Tangerines."

"It's _kaki_ ," Shouyou says, flicking Kageyama's knee. "Persimmon!"

"Why?"

Shouyou purses his lips in thought. "Hmm. Well. The trees themselves take a long time to grow and mature. Here in Satomori, they don't bear fruit until they're in their sixth year, I think. But they always taste amazing! I don't think I've ever eaten a bad persimmon before."

"I didn't know it would take that long," Kageyama says.

"Right?" Shouyou remembers planting one in their backyard, and being so disappointed when his father told him that he'd be eighteen by the time he gets to eat a ripe persimmon from the same tree. "But it doesn't really matter, does it? You just gotta be patient. Persimmons are really worth all the wait."

When they're done, Kageyama washes the pots and the dishes while Shouyou wipes them with a dishcloth. They finish the task quickly, and then they're back in the _tatami_ room, holding each other as they lounge on the floor. Shouyou contents himself with staring up at the high ceiling in the relative darkness, nestling in Kageyama's arms.

"Kageyema," Shouyou whispers.

"Hmm?" Kageyama presses his nose gently on the crook of Shouyou's neck.

"Summertime's almost over."

"Yeah."

"Will you still be here when autumn comes?"

The silence stretches almost unbearably, until Kageyama says, weakly, "I think so."

Shouyou decides that's enough for now. "Satomori's really beautiful in the autumn. You'll probably like it."

Kageyama kisses the shell of Shouyou's ear.

"Kamiyama has a volleyball league," Shouyou says. "Just a small-time one, like a rec league. They hold competitions for the municipal teams at the end of October. Satomori doesn't have a team, unfortunately. Do you want to watch?"

"Okay."

Shouyou tangles their fingers together. "It's going to be rather different from what you're used to," he says, smiling. "So be nice. No nasty commentary from you, alright?"

Kageyama snorts. "I won't say anything bad if you won't say anything stupid."

Shouyou laughs under his breath. His eyelids are drooping, and his limbs feel heavy yet pliant.

"I haven't touched a volleyball for months," Kageyama then says, voice filled with quiet want.

"Do you want to play?"

He can feel Kageyama's throat bobbing. "Maybe."

Shouyou thumbs Kageyama's knuckles. "Let's have a match, you and I." Maybe if Shouyou gathers enough people, he can squeeze in a pick-up game or two for Kageyama. "I'll ask around. Some folks will want to come play with us for sure."

Kageyama grunts. He lets go of Shouyou's hands and wraps his arms around the other man's waist, keeping Shouyou anchored.

It's not night time, not yet, but there's truly something about the darkness and the creeping shadows that gets Kageyama reaching out, less strained and apprehensive. Perhaps that's why Shouyou tolerates it to some extent.

"No one's ever been with me before," Kageyama mumbles.

"I think people will always want to if you let them," Shouyou whispers back. "Thanks for letting me in."

Kageyama holds Shouyou tighter.

~O~


	4. part iii: in the autumn's gold, the yellow cosmos hides and protects itself

~O~

_October 23, 2024_  
_Autumn_

...

Shouyou gingerly pads his foot on a branch of the laurel tree, but it splits in half as soon as he places the littlest bit of weight on it. From below, Kageyama yells at him, voice shrill, "Are you trying to _kill yourself_? Get the fuck down there and I'll do it myself, idiot!"

"Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate!" Shouyou grouches, gripping hard on the thicker, main bough. "Just stand there and catch me if this branch I'm standing on breaks!"

"The hell am I going to!" Kageyama shouts back, but moves to stand directly beneath Shouyou. "We should've just asked your neighbors for a fucking ladder!"

Shouyou snorts so hard he almost doubles over. "I've been climbing trees as soon as I had my diapers off! I'm a _pro_ at this, Potty Mouth-san! So just—I don't know— _be there_ and hold the bucket up when I say so!"

Kageyama's grumbling is loud enough that Shouyou can hear him mutter to himself, "I can't believe this fucking reckless dumbass risking his stupid life for some stupid fruit," before picking up the aluminum gardening pail.

With much effort, Shouyou nabs three _akebia_ fruits from the highest point in the tree. He lets out a triumphant screech, and throws it down as gently as he can at Kageyama. The pail sounds with a satisfying clang.

 _Akebia_ s, or chocolate vines, bear fruit in bundles, their sweet gray-white pulps and slightly bitter purple rinds making them a prized treat by the residents of Satomori. The vines tend to cling to tall neighboring trees, and it's a challenge to harvest them when they're so far off the ground, wrapped around frangible branches of the mountain trees. Shouyou has been going back to this area ever since he was twelve, finding the laurel and beech trees in this part of the forest line easier to climb than the others.

The furious expression Kageyama wears when Shouyou comes down is not something he's used to; Shouyou's done this so many times he's been harvesting _akebia_ mostly on his own in recent years. But it feels sort of nice, too, having someone other than his friends and family worry about him.

"Wear a helmet or some protective gear next time," Kageyama says as he removes the twigs stuck on Shouyou's hair with a grimace.

Shouyou smiles blithely. "Yes, sir."

They trek a few kilometers further until they reach the foothill where the persimmon trees grow in multitudes. The fruits are particularly plentiful at this time of the year. The villagers have been planting persimmons in this area for generations, coloring the slope with rich yellows, oranges and reds, like the flaming feathers of the phoenix featured in many of Satomori's folklore.

"Like your hair," Kageyama says, gazing upwards at the bounty. He sounds amazed.

Shouyou laughs. "S'really pretty, isn't it?"

"The trees are," Kageyama says, glancing back at Shouyou. "Your hair's a rat's nest."

Shouyou snickers as he grabs one of the low-hanging branches and clips off the persimmons with his shears. "My hair is _awesome_ and you know it. But go ahead and lie to yourself more, I'm not stopping you." He dumps them in the wicker basket and hands the shears to Kageyama.

Kageyama takes it and cuts the plump fruits with the deep, apricot-like color. He proceeds to shear off the rest of the ripe ones from the branches while Shouyou follows after him, carefully stacking the persimmons in the basket as they go.

Once they fill it up adequately, Shouyou slings the leather straps on his shoulders. They trek back down through the narrow trail leading to the unkempt chestnut orchard. Shouyou wagers that he'll get more chestnuts than Kageyama, which the latter vehemently shoots down. They increase the stakes by having the loser buy four packs of _yakult_ from the distant grocery mart.

Shouyou first teaches him how: chestnut shells have spiky husks, so it's better if Kageyama breaks open the protective covering with his feet instead, spreading open the burs by pressing down on the sides with his shoes and collecting the nuts using their tongs. He also tells him to look out for those that have already been chewed on by squirrels; the nuts have distinctive marks and are only around quarter of their original size.

After Kageyama gets the hang of it, they start scurrying around the orchard, head trained to the ground searching for fallen chestnuts. After an hour, they agree to stop and head back down the village, where they can properly count their harvest and declare the winner in safety. There aren't that many bears in this part of the forest, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

As they go down, Shouyou asks at length about Kageyama's life back in Sendai. He's always wondered about how life goes in that Northern modern wilderness, how the people there are like. Kageyama doesn't seem to hold any strong sentiments over his hometown; he tells Shouyou of the tree-lined avenues teeming with restaurants, and the huge, famous brewery in Miyagino ward, all in a clinical manner. Oddly enough, he elaborates on his high school years more than anything else; Shouyou can almost detect a hint of affection there for his teammates, especially.

"They taught me a lot," Kageyama says, adjusting the straps of his basket. "My third year seniors when I first came in were really good."

Shouyou hums. "Do you guys still keep in touch?"

"We have this group thing. A chat, or whatever."

"And...?"

Kageyama winces. "I don't use my phone a lot."

 _Is that because of his head?_ Shouyou wonders. "Really? How about you send them postcards? Write them letters?"

Kageyama gives him a flat look. "Who sends postcards in this day and age?"

"You _could_. And what do you mean, 'this day and age'? Why would that even matter?"

"It's just so..."

"So what?"

Kageyama scowls at him, but doesn't say anything more.

" _Ei_. You must be pretty terrible at written Japanese," Shouyou concludes. "Well. That's no surprise."

"Huh? Who ever said—because I'm _not_!"

"You're denying it so much it must be true, eh?"

"Shut up. I can even speak a bit of English—"

"You? No way!"

They bicker and shove at each other some more as they reach the serpentine path towards the rice paddies. Their voices carry over a remarkable distance; the nearby farmers whip their heads around in confusion before finding out the source of the commotion, and they snicker to themselves.

...

Kageyama wins; he got thirty-three more chestnuts than Shouyou. The taller man crosses his arms and simpers down at him, and Shouyou hits him with little force on the solar plexus. They wrestle each other over the bed of golden leaves in the Hinatas' backyard.

When the sun is beginning to set, Shouyou starts teaching him how to peel off the chestnut's outer skin. They finish the task when the sky is bleak and dark, and Shouyou's stomach is already growling insistently.

After cleaning up, they come inside the house, and Grandma asks Kageyama to stay for dinner. Much to their surprise, Grandma hands him a spare apron and relinquishes her usual role of seasoning the dishes to him.

"Let's see how proud you'd make your mother, Kageyama-san," Gran says with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Kageyama stills. "I—can't cook?" he says.

" _Nonsense_! Anyone who has a tongue and a gut can cook." She pushes him in front of the counter and gestures at the slab of chicken thigh. "Go on, now. If you want to make a spicy _katsu_ , how should it taste like?"

"Um," Kageyama flounders. "Spicy?" He then glares at Shouyou, who's trying to muffle his snickers without avail.

"Uh-huh." Grandma waves her hand. "Tell me what you want to taste, and _how_ you want to taste it. What should come first when you take a bite? Is it the heat, then the salt and the fat? Or should the toasty-ness and the crumbly texture of the _panko_ come first before everything else? Or do you want to experience all that texture and flavor, all at once?"

"O-oh."

Grandma nods and gestures at the spice rack. "So, keeping that in mind, what spices should you use?"

Kageyama turns to the rack, then to her, then to Shouyou helplessly. "I... I don't know any of these," he admits. "Or how to use them."

"Not even the pepper?"

"Er..." He points at the bottle of star anise. "Is this it?"

Grandma pauses, then laughs uproariously, hand over her chest. "Goodness! Shouyou, my sweet," she starts, hanging her apron aside. "Teach Kageyama-san the basics, won't you?"

Shouyou puts on his apron. "Alright!"

"By the spirits from the heavens above, I can't have an Iwasawa waste their gods-given talent like this. Not while I'm still alive!" She huffs out another laugh and slinks back to the _tatami_ room.

He and Kageyama share a long look, before Shouyou laughs mightily, tears spilling to his cheeks. Kageyama's flushed from his face to his neck, expression contorting in a supreme form of embarrassment.

"She's got a point, you know," Shouyou says. "You can't be that picky an eater _and_ not know how to cook at twenty-seven. That's just lame."

"I just never had the reason to." Kageyama sighs. "Whatever. Show me which one's which so I won't get humiliated by your grandmother next time."

"If it makes you feel any better, she never fails to school me whenever she gets the chance."

"That... doesn't make me feel better."

Shouyou laughs, taking out the pepper shaker from the rack and dangling it in front of Kageyama's face.

Dinner's a relatively quiet affair. When Grandma places her dishes in the sink and bids them goodnight, Kageyama whispers to Shouyou, "She doesn't hate me, does she?"

Shouyou pauses from lifting his chopsticks to his mouth. "No, she doesn't," he mutters back, confused. "She wouldn't have asked you to eat with us here if she didn't like you."

"Oh. Okay."

"Why'd you ask?"

Kageyama frowns. "I just don't want her to hate me," he replies, shrugging. "She's your grandmother."

"I don't think you could make her hate you even if you tried," Shouyou says, setting aside his rice bowl. "I actually _like_ you, dummy, and she's on my side. So don't fret about it too much."

Kageyama nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Alright," he says. "I'll—I'll get better at cooking." He flushes a deep red again.

Shouyou leans over the table and smacks a wet, sloppy kiss on Kageyama's cheek. In retaliation, Kageyama grabs him by the neck and kisses him on the mouth. Shouyou first tastes the cayenne and saffron on his tongue, before the flavors gradually open up to reveal a taste that's distinctly Kageyama.

~O~

Autumn skies in Satomori are usually clear and deeply blue, but this morning, low level clouds glide over the valley like a continuous sheet of carded, cultivated cotton. Overall, it's a good day to be outside. After doing deliveries, Shouyou stops by the Jins, asking their permission, before quickly heading to Kageyama's place and imploring the other boy to accompany him to the other side of the village. With an unconcerned look and a shrug, Kageyama crawls out of his bed and changes into his default sports attire.

The Jin family estate is not only famous for its size, but also for its ancient and majestic _jugatsu zakura_ —the October cherry tree. It blooms twice every year, both in spring and fall, and it's quite an uncommon cherry tree that the villagers have always looked at the Jins as a family graced by the gods, to have it growing in their backyard for centuries. The only people inside the huge house are the middle-aged couple Jin Naoko and Jin Nomura, with their cooks and gardeners, while the young masters, Jin Yohei and Jin Kozo, are in Tsukuba studying agricultural sciences. They're all serious, soft-spoken folks who keep to themselves. Shouyou personally likes the family a lot, and makes sure to give Naoko and Nomura a lot of their favorite _akebia_ candies during the autumn season.

One of the Jins’ new gardeners ushers Shouyou and Kageyama to the spacious family yard. "I already set up the net," the gardener says. "Nomura-sama wishes you to take your time and enjoy as much as you'd like."

"Oh! I was going to set up the net myself—I feel bad. Thank you very much, mister...?"

The man titters. "Call me Fukushima." He begins walking towards the back entrance.

"Thank you, Fukushima-san!" Shouyou shouts after him. He turns to Kageyama, who's become quiet and still as a cat ever since they arrived.

Kageyama's staring at the yard turned into an outdoor volleyball court. The branches of the _jugatsu zakura_ are spread out and overlooking the wide open space, pink and white petals shivering at the faint breeze.

"Is this okay?" Shouyou asks. "You said you play indoor volleyball, but I asked around, and there's no place wide enough in town for it. There's not much wind out here, but I guess there's still some—oh." He falters when Kageyama noiselessly grips his hand and squeezes tightly. "So, you like it, right? Oh man, where did I put the ball? It's right here somewhere..." Kageyama still hasn't let go of his hand, so Shouyou tugs him along as he searches for the ball that must've rolled under one of the bushes.

Once they find it sheltered beneath the azaleas, Kageyama starts teaching him the rules and the proper hitting techniques. It's quite different from the way Shouyou played volleyball with his schoolmates; they were more loose, less competitive. With a dried twig, Kageyama draws a line on the dirt where Shouyou should begin his run-up, and where, ideally, he should jump. Shouyou nods and follows, running as fast and jumping as high as he can. Kageyama sets the ball and it lands—on Shouyou's face.

" _Ow_ , Kageyama, what was that for?" Shouyou rubs his stinging cheek.

Kageyama grimaces. "My bad," he says, chagrined. "We haven't timed properly yet. Give me three more tries." He picks up the ball, and his expression turns pensive. "I hadn't... expected you could jump that high," he adds, astonished.

Shouyou scoffs, dusting off his arms. "Told you I could give Nishida Yuji-san a run for his money."

Kageyama rolls his eyes. "Lucky break, maybe." He jerks his chin towards the starting line. "One more."

"One more!" Shouyou cheers. He bends his knees, laughing breathlessly when he feels it creak a little, before running as fast as he can. _Lift me up!_ he commands the solid, reliable earth beneath his feet, and it complies.

...

After playing for what seems like hours, Shouyou and Kageyama plonk themselves on the thinning grass under the shade of the cherry tree. Shouyou lays his back against the tree trunk, while Kageyama rests his head on Shouyou's chest. He watches Kageyama's breathing slow into a steady rhythm, before turning his head up to meet the clouds rolling by, absently playing with Kageyama's hair with his fingers.

Kageyama breaks the silence: "You can jump and run so quickly, and you have fast reflexes." He sounds pained and disbelieving at the same time when he says it, spitting the words out. "You said you didn't have magic."

Shouyou lifts his head and grins down. He slaps his chest with his fist. "Nah, dude, that's just all me. I don't need magic for that."

Kageyama frowns. "You could be even better if you had more training."

"I really could. I know that."

"I'm fucking jealous."

"You should be."

Kageyama turns his head to glare up at him. "I'm not joking," he says with a scowl. "You could've been—" He slams his mouth shut, his teeth clacking audibly.

"What?"

"I... I feel like I understand where your grandmother was coming from."

Shouyou abruptly recalls: _I can't have an Iwasawa waste their gods-given talent like this_.

He gives Kageyama an amused look. "Well, I'm not, and that's that," Shouyou says. "I've always been like this, you know? Great at the physical stuff. But _man_ , Kageyama, you should've seen me when I was younger! I still feel pretty awesome, but it'd be like having a rickety rickshaw going against a high-speed motorcycle. When I was twenty, I was dang _fast_." He chuckles, feeling nostalgic all of a sudden. "But I like who I am, and I'm pretty happy and confident with what I can do. Maybe in some alternate universe, I could be playing volleyball with you, eh?"

Kageyama doesn't respond for a long time. Though he eventually says, "If you could find a way to grow taller, maybe you would."

Shouyou throws his head back in a laugh. "Like I'd let something stupid like _height_ stop me from playing if I really wanted to!"

"You won't stop? Even if they tell you you're short?"

"Yeah, duh. Why would I? I can still jump!"

Kageyama thinks about it. "You can," he concurs. "And you can jump even higher." He then proceeds to talk more about technique, about what Shouyou has to do with his legs and feet, when he reaches his point of impact. Very baffling, specific stuff.

Shouyou gets lost when Kageyama starts injecting seemingly random onomatopoeia in his instructions, so he contents himself with listening to the way Kageyama's talking. Commanding, _exhilarated_. Just like the passionate, ultra-competitive pain in the butt Shouyou expects him to be. It's no wonder Kageyama made it to the world stage at the tender age of nineteen. Volleyball to Kageyama is what cooking is to Shouyou, and just like food, Kageyama can never have enough of the sport; his unabashed love and energy for it can probably sustain a mortal man for the rest of his life.

Shouyou realizes belatedly that all this volleyball talk has lulled him to sleep, when Kageyama starts shaking him awake.

"Did you just snore?" Kageyama says sharply, pinching Shouyou's arm.

"Um, no." Shouyou wipes the wet evidence off his chin. "You were saying something about receiving?"

Kageyama blinks, and then sighs. "I made you jump around for four hours." He looks almost guilty.

Shouyou's sore legs twitch at those words. He splays them even further, liking the vague, sore feeling on his muscles. "Yeah, you did. You wiped me out pretty good." He smiles. "Let's do that again. Hopefully with more people."

"Alright."

Shouyou cards his fingers through Kageyama's hair once more, liking the feel of it on his skin. Abruptly, Kageyama takes his hand and presses his lips on Shouyou's palm.

Shouyou reddens. " _Gross_ , Kageyama!" he exclaims. "I'd been spiking a dirty ball with that hand!"

Kageyama mutters something in Shouyou's hand, which sounds suspiciously like, "Don't care." He then twists and hauls himself up until their faces are level. He rests his hands on Shouyou's cheeks, staring at him quite seriously.

Shouyou laughs, eyes crinkling in affection. "You're holding my face like a volleyball," he remarks.

Kageyama colors. "So?"

"Nothing," Shouyou says. "It's not bad. I like it. A lot!"

"Okay." Kageyama begins kneading Shouyou's cheeks experimentally. "How about now?"

Shouyou laughs even more. "Yeah, definitely."

"Okay." Kageyama angles his head and kisses Shouyou.

Shouyou closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the sensation, letting out a happy sigh. He feels Kageyema suddenly stiffen, before sitting up straighter and pressing himself into Shouyou's arms, kissing Shouyou more firmly. The smell of Kageyama's clean sweat and cherry flowers in full bloom fill his nose. He feels lightheaded.

Kageyama really likes kissing, Shouyou's quickly finding out. It's not supposed to be _too_ surprising, since Kageyama's a very tactile person, but there's an unusual intensity to how he explores Shouyou's mouth, tongue curling at the edge of Shouyou's lips. He finds it hard to hold back the noises threatening to spill from his throat; when Kageyama begins sucking Shouyou's lower lip, his resolve breaks—he moans, embarrassingly loud, over Kageyama's mouth.

Fortunately, Kageyama chases away his little hitches of breath by cradling Shouyou closer and kissing him full on the lips, though slower this time. There's spit gathering under the swell of Shouyou's lower lip, but he can't find it in himself to care. His eyelids flutter, hot spikes of pleasure making his heart beat madly in his ears.

In a fit of inspiration, Shouyou decides to try something. He grabs a fistful of Kageyama's shirt and pushes the other man flat on the grass.

In surprise, Kageyama pulls away, eyes round as saucers, and before he gets to say anything, Shouyou places his arm on the base of Kageyama's throat and assaults his spit-shiny mouth, kissing him with all the passion he can muster.

When he feels Kageyama go boneless underneath him, Shouyou pauses and chuckles at Kageyama's ear. "Told you I'd get back at you for that," he whispers, thoroughly aroused and vindicated.

Kageyama looks at him, hazy-eyed, before reaching out and grasping for Shouyou's neck. He pulls him closer until Shouyou finds his face pressed against Kageyama's collarbones. He feels Kageyama's chest rumble when he mutters quietly, "You got me."

Shouyou presses a kiss on Kageyama's neck. "No kidding. I got you good."

Kageyama gives him an exasperated look, before craning his head to kiss Shouyou again.

Suddenly, someone clears his throat.

Shouyou and Kageyama pull apart frantically, looking up.

It's Fukushima-san, standing a feet away from them and holding a wooden tray. He's flustered, for sure, eyes darting at everywhere but the two of them on the grass. "Refreshments, Hinata-san? Kageyama-san?" he says.

"Oh!" Shouyou says when he finally finds his voice. He disentangles himself from Kageyama's arms and scrambles to take the tray. "I-I'm—you didn't have to, Fukushima-san."

"I would have given it to you earlier, but you two seemed absorbed." Fukishima's eyes grow wide. "In your game, I mean! You were playing so hard." He jerks his chin at the drinks. "They're fresh orange juice. Made them myself this noon."

Shouyou laughs, high and reedy. "Thank you, Fukushima-san! Really! We'll enjoy these well!" He bows four times.

Fukishima leaves, but not after sneaking back curious glances at Shouyou and Kageyama. It takes a lot of effort for Shouyou to dampen the sense of uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach.

~O~

The news that hometown favorite Hinata Shouyou and mysterious big-city man Kageyama Tobio are dating spreads like wildfire.

~O~

Shouyou helps out in the rice harvest with great trepidation, on high alert for any unsavory comments or any hints of disapproval. Thus far, no one says anything weird. But he keeps on getting these _looks_ —intrigued, inquiring looks, obvious glances that Shouyou isn't accustomed being directed at him. He's done a couple of things in his teenage years, but nothing big enough to warrant the funny stares he's been receiving. He wonders whether this is how it was before his grandmother's time, way before the Hinatas were truly accepted in Satomori.

He ties the bundles of rice with dried long leaves, before stacking them together on a tall bamboo pole speared to the ground. Once he's done with his row, he approaches the Fujitas' side and ties the rice bundles the same way.

Surprisingly, it's Fujita Kentaro who sidles up to him and is the first to speak: "So, you and Kageyama-san, huh?"

Shouyou stands to his full height, alarmed, but then Kentaro guffaws, the sound carrying across the field. Some of the farmers pause to stare at them intently.

"Easy there, Shouyou." Kentaro smirks, gray hair soaked with perspiration. "Just had to get it out of the way."

A fit of anxiety threatens to overtake Shouyou, making it hard to keep his voice steady. "Um—"

"That fledgling gard'ner with the Jins said you and Kageyama-san were horsing around in their backyard the other day," Kentaro says. "But I do wonder. What, were you two really just fooling around or—?"

"No," Shouyou says immediately. "It's the real thing, Kageyama and I." A whoosh of breath leaves him, but he feels infinitely better, saying it out loud.

Kentaro laughs boisterously once more. "I knew it," he says, drawing out his sickle and slashing the rice stalks as he goes. "You fellas getting along well, I hope?"

"Very well." Shouyou's knees almost buckle. He then says, heart beating so loud in his chest, "I like him a lot."

"Eh? That's swell. And how about him? Does he like you?"

"I-I think so. He hasn't really said—"

"Hasn't said?"

"... Yes."

" _Ei_ , now that ain't fair. I say beat the lad into tellin' how he feels, like a real man!" Kentaro _tsks_. "He's been hanging around 'em city slickers for far too long—the Satomori blood in him's weak. Not enough to influence. Need to toughen him up and make him say what he means. You gotta show him, Shouyou."

Shouyou smiles shakily. "Thanks for the advice, Kentaro-san. I'll keep that in mind."

Kentaro then looks him in the eye. "Folks here got nothin' to do but drink and talk," he says gravely. "Not everyone around here's as hip and progressive and all-around stupendous as I am—" At this, Shouyou cracks a grin. "—but do understand that even though honesty may be novelty, it's still very much appreciated, eh?"

"Yes."

Kentaro pats Shouyou on the arm. "Hold your head up high, Hinata Shouyou. Looking all frantic and timid ain't you at all, lad."

Shouyou feels this strong surge of relief. He almost hugs Kentaro, but the older man has a very sharp sickle on his person, so Shouyou opts with lifting all of Kentaro's bundles and stacking them on the pole. "I'm just worried about how the folks here will think of Kageyama," he divulges. "I don't want 'em to talk badly about him. And back where he's from, he's not exactly... an ordinary person."

Kentaro snorts. "Well, goddamn. Anyone who drives to the middle of nowhere in the freezing rain I don't consider right in the head," he says, shrugging. "If you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't mind at all." The weight in Shouyou's stomach eases. "I'm... I'm just hoping that people knowing won't change things."

Kentaro shrugs again. "Just look at it this way, m'boy," he says. "Unless you're the prime minister or Watanabe Ken, nobody really cares who you go home with." He then laughs. "Give it a week or two, and it'll pass. You did nothin' wrong."

That seems overly optimistic, even by Shouyou's standards, but he'll gladly take anything at this point.

In truth, Shouyou hadn't even considered being out was an option. His skin is already tingling at the prospect. And most of all, "Thank you, Kentaro-san," Shouyou says earnestly.

Kentaro smiles. "Good people deserve nothing but good things." He hands Shouyou his sickle, and Shouyou proceeds to clear off the rest of the row.

~O~

The days pass without much bluster. Shouyou still gets some wayward looks whenever he traipses through town, but nothing exceedingly distressing or provoking. After his talk with Kentaro, a few villagers started asking, with varying degrees of politeness, how he and Kageyama were doing, and Shouyou replied as candidly as possible. Weirdly enough, all of it made Shouyou a bit more certain of himself, his heart pounding and his grin widening every time he talked about how Kageyama makes him feel. Kentaro was right about being honest.

It was silly of him to even think of hiding how much he cares for Kageyama. It's not even likely he would succeed in the endeavor, anyway.

Case in point: one morning, Matsuda and her friend Noguchi had cornered Shouyou in the marketplace. She only took one good look at him, and remarked, "You must be happy, Shouyou-kun!" She laughed a tinkling laugh. "Kageyama-san is such a sight for the sore eyes! I've been saying so ever since I saw the boy!"

"Stiff as a board, the young fellow, but not so much now as when he first came," Noguchi intoned. "And a man of surprises indeed."

"Still, Shouyou, good-looking city boys aren't to be trusted fully," Matsuda cautioned. "You were old enough to remember what happened with Aoyama-san, weren't you? If you find yourself in a bind, you just come to me. I've been around here long enough and I've seen enough. We'll drink to our hearts' content!"

Shouyou, feeling red and discomfited, stumbled through his words of gratitude, and Matsuda and Noguchi only laughed and questioned him some more. It took them half an hour of probing and teasing before they were satisfied and let him go.

Unfortunately, Kageyama doesn't see the silver lining in all of this. He clenches up and answers tersely to everyone in town indiscriminately, rude as heck, which Shouyou sort of understands at first. He saw how Kageyama worked himself up into a wordless panic, back in the Jins', after witnessing how Fukishima reacted at the two of them together. But now, Shouyou's been trying to wheedle Kageyama into considering they can do this out in the open, but Kageyama isn't budging.

"I am not going to fucking _hold your hand_ while people look at us like _kirin_ s," Kageyama eventually snaps. They're sitting face-to-face on Kageyama's bed, glowering at each other.

Shouyou punches Kageyama's thigh as hard as he can. "Why not?"

"Are you really stupid?"

"You can't say something like that and not explain it to me!"

"Do you seriously expect me to be okay having those people talk shit about you? About _us_?"

"What are you even—how can you even know what they're saying when you're not even giving them the time of the day? You're being so rude to everyone!"

"It's not that hard to imagine," Kageyama ripostes spitefully. "I've been in a professional sports league for almost a decade. You've read all the horseshit they've been saying about me in the papers. I don't give a flying fuck what the people here say about me, but if they honestly think I'll just take whatever they dish and lay out on you, they've got another fucking thing coming."

That's—the longest, profanity-laden speech Shouyou thinks he's ever heard from him. He decides to shed his amazement and focus on the matter at hand. "I've been living here, Kageyama, in this _small town_ , for my _entire life_ ," he reasons. "I know what you mean, but you gotta trust me on this."

"I trust you. It's them I don't trust."

"So what? Do you want us to break up, since you don't want to be seen with me anymore?"

Kageyama's expression shutters, and then all of a sudden, Shouyou's back is on the mattress, the force of the movement shocking the breath out of him. Kageyama tackled him, and he's now looking down at Shouyou, arms shaking with barely-contained fury. "Fuck you," Kageyama grits.

"Right back at you," Shouyou says. "Answer the question—do you want us to break up?"

"I didn't say _shit_!"

"Yeah? So you don't want to break up, but you don't want to do couple stuff with me? Make up your goddamn mind, Kageyama." Shouyou settles back his expression into something more open. "If you think I'm not being fair, then what do you suggest we should do?"

This time, Kageyama doesn't respond; his mouth stays shut, skin taut and weary at the edges. From this angle, Shouyou can see that his eyes are glistening.

Shouyou reaches out to touch Kageyama's exposed neck. "As long as you're here, I can do anything," he says quietly. "You said. You _promised_."

Kageyama squints at him. "I remember."

"You're not going back on your word." Shouyou is absolutely certain of it. "Don't be afraid, Kageyama. Aren't you excited?" he says.

All the fight seems to leave Kageyama in that instant. He leans down over to Shouyou's side, before resting his forehead on Shouyou's. "I saw," he then croaks after a while.

"What?"

"Your face. When Fukushima-san walked away." Kageyama stutters out a breath. "You were scared, too."

Shouyou's throat tightens. "Maybe at first," he admits. "But you have to know... we're surrounded by good people here in Satomori. They'll talk, _of course they do_ , but they don't mean anything bad about it. Maybe that's not the case everywhere else, but it's true here. We've got good people, Kageyama. You even said so yourself." He strokes Kageyama's forehead, pulling back his hair. "Have a little faith in them, okay? There's nothing wrong with that."

Kageyama stays silent. Shouyou figures it's the best time to kiss him senseless, and so he did.

When they resurface, Shouyou gives him a soft peck before saying, "Anyway, who cares what everybody else thinks? I'm not in love with them, am I?" He grabs the meat of Kageyama's shoulders. "Who am I in love with, Kageyama?"

Kageyama exhales. "Me."

Shouyou squeezes the muscle until all the tension in it bleeds out. "See? Easy as pie." He then laughs. "I'm going to make all the ladies in town seethe in envy. Hey, you gotta be as close to me as possible. Like, you gotta stand only one centimeter away from me at all times."

"That sounds incredibly uncomfortable."

"You're right. What about ten centimeters?"

Kageyama doesn't acknowledge that with a verbal answer, but he does press himself more to Shouyou's side, curling up like a pine marten. Shouyou puts his arms around him. It's difficult, with Kageyama's size, but Shouyou does it anyway.

As his eyelids flutter close, Shouyou barely registers Kageyama turn, slinging the covers over them. Afterwards, Kageyama takes Shouyou's hands in his.

~O~

Kageyama drives them to the arena in Hagura, Kamiyama's capital. It's a three and a half-hour drive from the village, but with the car and the way Kageyama's driving, they'll probably be there in half the usual time. It's Shouyou's first time in the Lexus; he fiddles with the air conditioner, the cup holders. He bemoans Kageyama's lack of CDs or anything resembling a music player.

"Don't you listen to music when you're driving?" Shouyou asks.

"No."

"What about when you drove from Tokyo to Satomori?"

"None at all."

"No workout music?"

Kageyama shakes his head.

"You are _so_ boring."

Kageyama side-eyes him quickly. "What do you need all the extra noise for?" he says.

Shouyou makes a gurgling sound. " _Noise_? Why I oughta—fine. How about you picture this, you soulless loser—you're playing in center court at Tokyo Dome or whatever, and you're about to do this super amazing toss to your best spiker—" Shouyou extends his arms and splays all his fingers in the air. "—and _ahhh_! The crowd is squealing in anticipation! There are drums beating so loud, the trumpets, the fan chants, and then _wham_!" He spikes the air. "Your hitter scores a point on the quick! The crowd goes wild! Adlers win! _Dah dah dah dun dun daaaaahhhhhh!_ There should be a victory music in your head, making it all better! _Fantastic_!"

"Okay," Kageyama answers, uncharacteristically mild. "What victory music should I have?"

Shouyou beams so hard his cheeks hurt. He takes out his phone. "I swear to the mountain goddess, Kageyama-kun, this song is just a hundred degrees of pure showmanship." He blasts Joan Jett's _I Love Rock N' Roll_ on Kageyama's high-end speakers.

...

They do arrive earlier than they're supposed to, so he and Kageyama scour the streets for good food. Shouyou has only been to Hagura once, when he had to get official papers for Natsu's application to university. Kageyama seems to take this information with some interest, and tells Shouyou that he doesn't mind walking farther out.

As they stroll down the streets, they don't hold hands, but they do stand close.

The stone roads are lined with trees of different shades of evergreen and red, the sunlight coming in faint streams. With the leaves collecting at the street gutters and the historic buildings, it's like they're strolling through a primeval town rather than a city. A group of school children in yellow caps walk beside them, clutching transparent umbrellas and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

They find a promising _sushi_ place after another twenty minutes of walking. There are a lot of cars parked outside, and with a cursory glance, the place is packed with customers from all age groups.

Shouyou tugs Kageyama's shirt sleeve. "Let's eat here," he says. "We have time."

Kageyama nods.

The servers look young enough to be college students, while the people in the kitchen are all elderly women, their face serene as they mold the _sushi_ in their palms. The interior is divided into wooden panels where calligraphy and old-style Japanese paintings are hung.

They choose to sit at the far side of the room. Shouyou extends his legs and rubs his ankles against Kageyama's, and he snickers when Kageyama coughs over his glass of water.

Their orders of _kakinoha zushi_ arrive a quarter before noon. "Mackerel sushi, wrapped in orange persimmon leaves," the male server explains. "It's our specialty."

"I haven't tried any of these before," Shouyou says to Kageyama once the server has left. "Have you?"

Kageyama shakes his head and eats it whole. He chews noiselessly, before giving Shouyou the thumbs up.

Shouyou takes a bite, and it's just— _wow_. The fish and the rice taste pleasantly sweet. Grandmas in the kitchens are really something else.

Kageyama entangles their legs further. "You think you can make this at home?" he says.

"You bet," Shouyou chirps. "Want to order another set?"

Kageyama gives him a small smile and nods.

...

There aren't that many people who came to watch the games. Shouyou suspects that most of the audience are families and friends of the players. It feels a bit rude and intruding taking the front row seats, so they shuffle towards the back where they can still get a clear view of the court.

Kageyama lays his jacket across their laps and slides his hand underneath, slotting his fingers in between Shouyou's. Shouyou's heart almost bursts out of his chest, though after a minute, he relaxes, feeling warm all over with quiet delight.

The first teams competing in the men's division are the Matsusaka Hoppers and the Hagura Swordfins. A handful of the players are only slightly taller than Shouyou, and they aren't as coordinated in their plays like the teams in Kageyama's league. It's an unfair comparison, but the differences are so stark that Shouyou can't help but wonder whether Kageyama's enjoying this at all.

"Their timing's off whenever they block," Kageyama suddenly murmurs.

"Who?"

"Matsusaka," Kageyama says. He's got his other hand under his chin, eyes raptly tracking the movements on the court. "They disperse way before the Hagura's spikers complete their run-up." His eyebrows furrow. "They're doing a dedicated block, but it's not working so far."

"Mhmmm." Shouyou shifts his gaze back to the court, not understanding, but now a little assured that Kageyama's fairly invested in the match. Maybe for him, all volleyball games must be worth watching, even if the teams suck a bit.

Hagura wins 25-18 after two sets. The player wearing the #18 jersey is definitely their star player, and he has a pretty sick vertical.

"I can beat that, no contest," Shouyou comments.

" _I_ can beat that," Kageyama retorts.

Shouyou doesn't doubt that at all, but he makes sure to roll his eyes so hard that Kageyama notices and hits him on the shoulder. He's doing the people of Japan a huge service in keeping Kageyama's monstrous ego in check, for sure.

~O~

For the next several weeks, Shouyou's days are filled with a flurry of activity. Though he still spends most of his waking hours in the kitchen and going around town delivering food, he also finds himself in someone else's barn or yard, chopping timber and hauling sacks of wheat and barley. During downtimes, which he's not having a lot lately, he chats with his grandmother while they're skinning persimmons at night, or he's in Kageyama's place, sprawled on the _tatami_ floor, talking nonsense or watching movies and volleyball matches or making out (or all three at the same time).

So when Natsu comes home on the 26th of November, it's like the world is telling him to take a well-deserved break.

Natsu always demands all of his attention, especially when they were kids; she can be a real pain, though now Shouyou's grown to like spoiling her and playing the older brother role. That old saying about distance making the heart grow fonder must have some truth in it, he supposes.

Natsu being back in Satomori gives him an excuse to set aside his responsibilities for a while. It'll be great, getting to act like a carefree teenager with her again.

...

"So this is Nakamura Kaho, Hanae Haruka and Esumi Asako."

Shouyou inwardly sighs in relief. _No boys_ , thank the gods.

The three girls bow in unison. "It's nice to meet you, Hinata-san," Nakamura, a petite girl with black hair and blonde highlights, says.

Natsu laughs and squeezes Nakamura's arm. "You don't have to be so formal around onii-chan. In fact, I'm encouraging you to treat him as your lapdog!"

Shouyou looks at her in mock exasperation before showing the guests to their rooms. "It's really not a lot, but please make yourself at home!" he says brightly. "What would you guys like to have for lunch?"

Natsu slings her arm around Shouyou. "Don't be shy, girls! Tell him whatever you want and he'll really make it for you!" she exclaims.

Shouyou laughs. "You're being pushy again." He presses his finger on her cheek.

"Yeah, sure, but I wasn't lying," Natsu quips, tightening her hold around Shouyou and giving him the noogie. Natsu is only three centimeters shorter than Shouyou, and she'll forever give him grief about it.

"We'll have anything you prepare," Nakamura says, and the other two nod vigorously.

The siblings leave the three of them alone so they can unpack. They head outside to Natsu's car, a second hand dirty-white Nissan Sentra that she seems to have an unusual attachment to. She even named it Haru-chan.

"Think they're too tired to go hiking?" Shouyou asks, opening the car trunk and taking out Natsu's luggage.

"Let's give them something tame for today," Natsu says with a chuckle. "Not everyone has limitless energy like we do."

"You schooled anyone during your last athletic meet?"

Natsu scoffs and flexes her biceps. "What an insult to insinuate I did anything less. I completely _buried_ them!"

Law students are such a bunch of competitive freaks. Shouyou smiles. "I hope you didn't get into any fights like last time."

Before Natsu can answer, the door to Kageyama's house opens. Shouyou waves ecstatically at Kageyama, who seems to have gone frozen on the spot, utterly confused at the sight of another creature with untamable red-orange hair.

"Oooohh," Natsu whispers, eyeing Kageyama appreciatively as he approaches. "Is he New Guy?"

"Yeah. Let me introduce you." Shouyou gestures. "Kageyama, this is my sister, Natsu. She's the one staying in Tokyo that I told you about. Natsu, this is Kageyama Tobio. His mom's from here, but they moved to Sendai way before he was born."

Kageyama bows. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise!" Natsu says brightly. "Say, Kageyama-san. You want to join me and my friends? Onii-chan's showing us around town!"

Kageyama's gaze flickers to Shouyou before saying, "Hinata already gave me a tour months ago."

Natsu gapes, and then throws Shouyou a loaded side-eye. " _Ahh_ , I didn't know that." To Kageyama, she adds, "It's still an open invite. We can team up and bully my beloved brother while we're at it."

"Oh. Alright." After a moment of them standing around awkwardly, Kageyama bows and promptly takes his leave.

Once the door to the Iwasawa residence closes, Natsu points a perfectly manicured finger at Shouyou. "You are going to make me pancakes, and you are going to tell me everything." She brings her finger closer to his face. "Okay?"

Shouyou puts away Natsu's hand and sighs.

...

"Oh my god!" Natsu shouts at him over the dining table. Strawberry syrup trickles at the side of her mouth. "So he's like, practically your boyfriend?"

 _Boyfriend_. Shouyou flinches. There's something in that word that doesn't sit right with him, but he supposes that it's enough to somewhat describe what he and Kageyama have right now. "We're... together, yeah," he says finally.

"Who else knows?"

"Uhh, everyone in town, I guess?"

" _Everyone_?"

"Er. Izumi and Koji, too."

"Koji-san's in Nagoya and you told him, but you didn't tell me?" Natsu screeches. "Your own sister?"

"Hey, I thought there wasn't much chance Koji would meet him soon!" Shouyou says. "And you said you were coming home, so I figured it'd be better if you met him first before I told you."

"Oh my _god_ ," Natsu repeats.

Shouyou hands her a packet of _ginseng_ extract, and she takes it gratefully and sucks the whole thing in one go. He then gives her a napkin, pointing at the syrup on her chin.

"He's not that good with new people, Natsu," Shouyou explains. "So you gotta be gentle with him."

"Like you can be _gentle_." Then, Natsu stills. "Holy hell—you two aren't horizontally _shaking and baking_ it, are you?"

"Natsu!" Shouyou all but squeaks, heat immediately rising to his face. "What the heck are they teaching you in law school?"

"Uh, all the important things, obviously," she snipes. "So are you two—"

"I am _not_ talking to you about this! It's none of your business." Jeez, _sisters_.

Natsu rolls her eyes at the ceiling and groans. "I really have to get you out of Kamiyama for a week or two. If you two idiots are just circling each other and giggling like a bunch of old maids, I'll be _hugely_ disappointed."

"Natsu," Shouyou warns.

Natsu just laughs at his face, doubling over. "How'd they take it?"

"Who?"

"Gran," Natsu says, wiping a tear from her eye. "The villagers. Are they..." Her expression turns solemn. "'Cause I'll fight them, onii-chan. You know I will."

Shouyou can feel himself softening under her gaze. "I think Gran knew before anyone else—"

Natsu snorts. "Of course she did."

"And, well, as for the others—it was a tough first few weeks, but it's... going. Surprisingly well, honestly." Even the Jins still allow them to use their backyard, which Shouyou hadn't expected. "I think they're curious more than anything else. We're trying not to make people uncomfortable about the idea of us, at least."

Natsu puffs her cheeks. "Yeah, I _really_ got to get you out more. It's not on you to make people accept you, onii-chan. It's not _your_ burden."

Shouyou looks at her helplessly.

"If anyone says something, you should tell me straight away. The nerve of them—after all you've sacrificed for this town? Ugh. People can be such assholes." Natsu stabs her pancake with her fork. "Don't worry, onii-chan. I got your back."

"I know you do," Shouyou placates. "And you shouldn't worry. No one's being mean right now, and you know I can fight back."

"Not when you're too busy protecting Kageyama-san from all the haters."

Shouyou smiles. "No one's hating on anyone, not on my watch, so you can rest easy. Who's the older brother here, twerp?" He ruffles Natsu's hair. "Why don't you let out all that feistiness in the courtroom instead?"

"Speaking of which." Natsu sets aside her empty plate and folds her arms over the table. "I haven't told you about that windbag I met when I was applying for that internship, right?"

"You've been coming across a lot of—" Shouyou snickers. "—'windbags' lately."

"Yeah, no kidding. But this one's the biggest _douche_ yet."

Natsu regales him of the latest law school drama, and Shouyou props his chin up with his hand, nodding and laughing all the while, thoroughly entertained.

At some point in their conversation, Grandma joins them. In between sips of tea, Grandma scolds Natsu more than once for her language, which Natsu artfully sidesteps by hugging her and screaming at the top of her lungs about how she missed them terribly.

~O~

Shouyou drives the four of them in Natsu's car, showing them the interesting spots in Satomori. They stop by the souvenir shops, Toya's handicraft store, and the public market. At first, the locals gawk at the three Tokyo girls, eyeing their dyed hair and strappy shoes. But they welcome them with the usual Satomori bluster soon after.

Hanae is the quietest of the bunch, her demure chuckles easily overpowered by Natsu and Nakamura's animated banters. But she seems to have a keen interest in food, stopping once to taste the turban snail meat glazed with sweet coconut milk, and shyly asking Shouyou about his pear cake recipe. So he hangs back and talks to her about picking seasonal fruits and baking, the latter appearing to be a hobby of hers, while Natsu, Nakamura and Esumi shop for clothes and shoes in the novelty store.

"I wasn't supposed to come here," Hanae divulges as he ties her thick mahogany hair in a neat ponytail. "I was thinking of taking a vacation somewhere abroad—Europe, maybe—but when Natsu invited me, she said that the food here is really good." She raises a delicate eyebrow and smiles softly. "I must admit I was skeptical, but she definitely wasn't bluffing at all. Our lunch was exceptional. It's almost unfair we're eating it for free."

Shouyou smiles back, a thread of laidback warmth coursing through him. "Anytime for Natsu's friends. And that's great to hear! I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I hardly get to eat any home cooked food in Tokyo," Hanae says wistfully. "Sometimes, after a really long day, all I want is to stay warm under a _kotatsu_ and eat a nice bowl of _nabe_ , you know?"

Shouyou nods, understanding. When he looks up, the afternoon sky is a cloudless blue; definitely a good day for _nabe_. He decides to make one for them when they get home.

On the ride back, Natsu suggests inviting Kageyama over for dinner, which Shouyou vehemently vetoes. Natsu ignores him, however, and is quick to get off the car as soon as it stops. She approaches Kageyama's house like a storm.

"You'll overwhelm him!" Shouyou shouts from the driver seat. " _Oi_ , Natsu!"

Natsu sticks out her tongue at him and knocks.

"There's no stopping her, Hinata-san," Esumi says with a giggle. "She always does what she likes."

 _She's really living up to the Hinata name, alright_ , Shouyou thinks ruefully. He sighs and opens the car door. The women follow him inside the house, bags full of clothes and souvenirs dangling from their arms.

...

Of course, Kageyama doesn't stand a chance against Hinata Natsu and her magic. The six of them are now all in the _tatami_ room drinking the hibiscus tea Grandma prepared. None of the women recognize Kageyama, but Shouyou can tell that they find him attractive instantly, judging from the way they inadvertently blush when Kageyama so much as glances at their direction. Shouyou, for the most part, finds it extremely amusing.

"What do you do, Kageyama-san?" Nakamura says, pink-cheeked and smiling.

Kageyama looks up from his teacup. "I play volleyball."

" _Oh_ , really? Like, as a hobby?"

"No."

"Professionally, then?"

Kageyama nods.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful. I don't know much about volleyball. What position do you play?"

"Setter."

Esumi tries, "Ahh. That must be fun!"

"It is," Kageyama answers.

Shouyou's navel is hurting so much from holding back laughter. His face must be terribly red.

Kageyama gives Shouyou a panicked look when he stands up from the table to continue preparing dinner. Shouyou throws back a wicked smile, waggling his eyebrows as he walks away.

Grandma's in the kitchen, slicing the cabbage into strips. Shouyou puts on an apron and starts boiling the stock.

"Do you like it, Gran?" Shouyou asks her. "Getting visitors?"

Grandma chuckles. "Of course. More mouths to feed. And I know you think that way, too."

"Just checking." Shouyou shapes a meatball with his palms. "Aren't old people easily irritated by noise?"

Grandma pokes him with a ladle. "Such impertinence," she says warmly. "Kageyama-san seems to be very popular with Natsu's friends, hmm? Color me surprised." She smiles, remembering. "His mother was such a beauty in her teenage years. Young men from all over Kamiyama used to come in droves and serenade her by her bedroom window."

"Really?" Shouyou's jaw slacks. "Wow. Matsuda-san did say Kageyama's dad was a trader of some kind. She said he was handsome and tall, too." Kageyama really lucked out in that regard.

Shouyou chews on his lower lip, feeling a sudden, vicious stab of insecurity, at the thought of his strange hair, his height, his rough hands, the burn scar under his left forearm, his boring brown eyes. He hardly cared about his appearance, deeming it inconsequential in the face of most things, but there are times that he does wonder.

Shouyou exhales, shrugging off the bothersome thoughts. He is who he is, after all. There are more things he likes about himself than the things he wishes are different. He lets those concerns swirl away like the tiny bubbles in the broth.

"Shouyou."

Shouyou raises his head from staring down at the pot. "Huh? What?"

Grandma points at the towering figure standing awkwardly near the stove.

"Um." Kageyama scratches his shoulder. "Can I help?"

"Ah. _Ahhh_!" Shouyou peers at his grandmother, who nods. "Sure! Want to wash those potatoes?"

Kageyama obeys, taking the potatoes to the sink. Shouyou's shoulder brushes with Kageyama's arm, and it's kind of disconcerting how such little contact can make Shouyou's mood do a complete one-eighty.

Kageyama opens the tap. "What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm?"

"Earlier," Kageyama murmurs. "You looked all sad and mopey over your soup."

"Oh. Nothing special. How did it go back there?" Shouyou whispers back.

Kageyama grunts. "Your sister's nice."

"And her friends?"

It takes longer for him to answer. "They're nice, too."

"Why don't you talk to them some more, see how much nicer they can be to you?"

Kageyama flicks water at his face. Shouyou hears Grandma laugh breathlessly from behind them.

...

"Onii-chan."

Shouyou stops at the doorway of his bedroom. "Yeah?"

Natsu looks at him uneasily. "Can we talk?" she says.

She and Shouyou relocate to their backyard, where they can talk freely without disturbing their sleeping grandmother and the guests. It's dark out on the decks; Shouyou opens the lamps.

Shouyou sits cross-legged on the jute rug. "What's up?"

Natsu has her arms around her protectively, frowning at Shouyou. "Kageyama-san said he's a professional volleyball player."

"Yeah."

"He still is, isn't he?"

Shouyou freezes. He knows where this conversation is heading. "Natsu," he exhales tiredly.

"He's not staying here."

Shouyou gives her a tight smile. "You seem to know everything already."

"Kageyama Tobio, number nine, setter of the Schweiden Adlers," Natsu narrates dispassionately. "Sustained multiple concussions, a left shoulder and a back injury. Placed on long-term injured reserve since twelfth of March 2022. After completing concussion protocol, team management claims that Kageyama is projected to return by—"

"What do you want me to say here?" Shouyou interrupts. "Natsu, just please, leave it—"

"I want you to tell me that this thing you have with Kageyema-san isn't serious," Natsu says. "'Cause, onii-chan, I swear to god—"

"It's serious." Shouyou stands up, gaze not leaving her face. "I'm serious with him. And you're... nothing you'll say will ever change that."

Natsu juts her chin out, mouth wobbling like she's about to cry. The thing is, Shouyou knows—he _understands_ , fundamentally, that she's worried about him. But whatever it is that she wants from him, he's not going to give. Shouyou has always gone by his own choices; it's his bitter pride that he chose to forgo college, he chose to continue the family business, he chose to remain in Satomori. Nobody can make him live his life the way he doesn't want to.

"How can you be with a person that won't even stay?" is what Natsu lets out all of a sudden, and that's— _that's not fair at all_.

"You don't think I haven't thought about that?" Shouyou says, hands curling into fists at his sides. He's shouting now. He can't help it. "You don't think I've never wondered about what happens after? Because I know, Natsu! I _know_ there's an after! Why won't you just let me be?"

"Because in that fucking _after_ , he won't _be_ here anymore, and you're going to be _alone_ , by _yourself_ —"

"Shut the _hell up_ , Natsu—"

" _No_ , you listen to me! I am not going to let some asshole cause shit and _leave you here_ and make you stand by the door for twenty years like you're some goddamn paramour who can't catch a break! Those months waiting for Dad to come home were the absolute fucking _worst_ of our lives—"

"Did you think I've _forgotten_ , cause I remember _clearly_ —"

"I don't think you do, or else you wouldn't be doing this to yourself!" Natsu yells back, stomping her feet. " _Onii-chan_ , please think! Kageyama-san will be in Sendai! Tokyo! Europe! He can go away at any time, _to any place_ , but you _can't_! You can't follow him, and he can't be with you! Is that really _fair_?"

"You don't get to talk about fairness when even _you_ left me here," Shouyou bites out. "So shut up, Natsu. I don't want to hear a single thing about this anymore."

Before Natsu can say anything else, Shouyou storms out of the yard. He shoves his feet in his work boots and drags his bike outside.

Turning away from Natsu is hard, almost a physical pain—akin to being sucker punched in the gut, more than once. He doesn't know how much of it is because of Natsu's ability, and how much is because he hates fighting with the little sister he loves so much, but he chokes back the tears threatening to spill over and pedals to wherever his feet will take him.

He's tempted to go to Kageyama's house, but in the end he bikes past it, thinking that if he does, it'll be like Natsu won the argument. He's not—he's not going to be _miserable_ without Kageyama, is he? He hadn't been before, he's sure, back when he hadn't met him. Shouyou was happy. He is, and he _will_ be, no matter what happens.

But there's no taking away the fact that Natsu was right, too: Shouyou will miss Kageyama so badly when he leaves. Right now, he's having a hard time catching his breath, just at the thought of Kageyama saying goodbye, like there's an invisible hand grasping at his heart and squeezing it so tight his chest aches all over. He's always thought being in love is a wonderful thing, a precious privilege, but he hadn't expected it would hurt so much like this.

Shouyou has really been thinking about after, but it's always been a nebulous thing. A looming deadline that he and Kageyama are too cowardly to talk about. But now, thanks to Natsu, Shouyou can't get it out of his head. Because Shouyou can't leave, and Kageyama can't stay, and he doesn't know what to do.

Shouyou has to stop near the canals of the rice paddies. He clings to the lamp post, heaving hard, sweat and tears and saliva collecting under his chin. Once he recovers, he spits forcibly on the ground and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He then looks up, assessing his surroundings.

He's on the far east side of town, where there'll hardly be any lights once he bikes a few hundred meters further. Unconsciously, he had cycled towards the hillside where he and Kageyama spent most of the night of the Mud Sports Festival.

Shouyu chews on his lower lip, tasting the familiar tang of blood. He sighs to himself and bikes ahead.

...

When he arrives at the top, there's someone else already sitting on the boulder. It's Urobuchi Kouta, a rice farmer. It's hard to believe he's already eighty-nine when he's still climbing up steep hills without anyone's assistance. Still, though—"Urobuchi-san, it's not good for you to be walking up the hills all by yourself," Shouyou tells him. "And it's really late already."

Urobuchi holds up his lamp, the light rendering half of his face in shadow. "I could say the same for you, young Hinata." He smiles and bows deeply. "What brings the guardian of _Kamui Fuchi_ 's hearth on this lonely hill of mine?"

Shouyou pads forward and sits next to him, sighing wearily. "I just needed to cool off, I guess. Sorry if I'm intruding."

"To be in the presence of someone from the Hinata family is always a delight. After all, your grandmother and I used to be playmates when we were little." He laughs. "She cheats very often, with or without her magic."

Shouyou hums, wiping clean the dust and grime that stuck to his forearms. He stares after the view of the village, unseeing.

It's silent for a while, until a loud, clinking sound fills the air. Shouyou turns to Urobuchi, thoroughly puzzled, when he sees the elderly man waving his keys and hitting it on his palm like a tambourine. Urobuchi then begins singing an upbeat folk song about reaping the joys of farming when you're most down.

" _In the valleys where I rise, the rains have come to show_ ," Urobuchi sings, winking at Shouyou. " _All the things that remind me of far away home._ "

Shouyou snickers and joins along, " _The coldness shan't find me in the streets, the darkness shan't find me under the sheets_."

" _Because the rice straws, they surround me! My shelter in the wide fields!_ " Urobuchi says, ringing his keys in the air. They end the song number by cackling at each other and clapping their hands.

" _Ahhh_ , wonderful! Wonderful!" Urobuchi says with glee. "You can sing like the sparrows, young Hinata."

"You too!" Shouyou says, feeling more like himself again.

"How has the harvest treated you so far?"

"The harvest? Uh, pretty good! I was at the Hideyoshis a week ago, and the rice was plentiful. How about you, Urobuchi-san? Do you need someone to reap your field? I can help!"

Urobuchi smiles serenely. "I had not planted any rice this year."

Shouyou jolts back. "Really? Why?"

"The field was not in the right condition this spring," Urobuchi says. "Do not worry! I have enough potatoes to last me the winter."

Shouyou nods slowly, considering. "I didn't know. You didn't seem upset last time we met."

"Oh, you hardly get upset about these things, once you get to my age. But the littlest things, like forgetting where in the heckling mudballs did you place your hat, _hoo_! That will throw you off the whole day." Urobuchi inhales deeply; a loud, crackly sound emerges as the air flows through his windpipe. "I will make sure this autumn and winter that the land would be fit for planting rice this coming spring, so never you mind."

Shouyou pulls up his legs and rests his chin on his knees. "That's the one thing I haven't really gotten the hang of," he says. "All that—" He wrinkles his nose. "Soil conditioning thingy."

"Ahh, I find it the most difficult thing about farming as well, and thus the most important," Urobuchi intones. "A well-prepared land will yield the most bountiful and healthiest of crops. Just as the well-conditioned mind can weather anything life throws at it." He turns his smile to Shouyou. "Plow the fields, nourish the soil, take out the weeds, irrigate the land. Every day. Painstakingly."

Shouyou grins. "Farming isn't for the lazy folks, huh."

"It truly is not!" Urobuchi laughs. "It is back-breaking work, but it is not without its joys."

"It does feel pretty good when you start stacking all the bundles and you realize—" Shouyou opens his palms. " _Woah_. You've got so many!"

Urobuchi tilts his head in agreement. "That is why preparations are very important, as I mentioned," he says. "Rice grows in suitable soil, in fields that have been tilled and watered with care."

Shouyou licks his lips, which are already cracking in the cold. "In suitable soil," he repeats, mostly to himself. "In fields that have been tilled and watered with care."

"Yes," Urobuchi says. "With all your love and care."

Shouyou quiets, and then smiles widely. _Love and care_. He definitely has those in abundance; that won't be a problem at all.

He stands in front of Urobuchi and bows. "Thank you for your advice, Urobuchi-san."

"I am glad it helped." Urobuchi bows back. "May the hearth keep you warm always."

Shouyou leaves the hill awash with a different kind of resolve. Before riding his bike, he pauses first to take in the fragrance of the cold November night—fresh grass, healthy earth, birch boughs, fallen maple leaves in their last steps of life. He then pedals with a calm set to his shoulders.

...

Natsu's still awake by the time Shouyou comes home, sitting by herself in the _tatami _room. Her eyes and cheeks are blotchy red, and she cries anew when she sees Shouyou by the front door. Her mug of coffee is almost empty.__

__Something inside Shouyou twists in pain, hot and unbearable. He saunters towards Natsu and hugs her. Natsu hugs him back just as tight, uncaring of how dirty and smelly he is._ _

__By the time Natsu stops crying, Shouyou's black hoodie and undershirt are soaked through. He keeps her in his embrace for a long time._ _

__"I miss Dad," Natsu croaks._ _

__"Me too."_ _

__"You must miss Mom."_ _

__Shouyou messes her already disheveled hair. "She would've loved to be here and witness you grow up, twerp."_ _

__"I just don't want you to get hurt," Natsu says damply. "I want you to be happy."_ _

__"I already am," Shouyou assures her. "I'll always be warm and happy, with or without Kageyama here. I'm Hinata Shouyou. Isn't that who I am? Who we are?" He grins down at her. "Don't worry. I won't sully the family name."_ _

__Natsu harrumphs, her demeanor now taking on its usual energy. "Call me if Kageyama-san's being a jerk to you. I can go down and kill him, and no one will ever find the body."_ _

__Shouyou chortles. A tiny furious woman beating up an almost two meters tall professional athlete makes for a funny mental image. He doesn't want to encourage her, though. Hinata Natsu doesn't make idle threats. "Seriously, what ever are the stuff they're teaching you in law school?" He ruffles her hair again. "I really like Kageyama, so I'm hoping you two will get along. Yeah?"_ _

__After a beat, Natsu nods. "He seems alright, so I think I can manage. Plus, he's really fucking hot," she says. "I want a hot volleyball boyfriend, too."_ _

__Shouyou laughs. "I'll ask him if he has any teammates who are still available." He then turns serious. "I don't want any more jerkass lawyers for you, okay?"_ _

__Natsu snorts. "Like they can handle me." She hugs Shouyou again._ _

__

~O~

_December 9, 2024_  
_Late autumn_

...

It's almost eleven in the evening when Kageyama makes a sudden proposal: "Sleep with me."

Shouyou's toes catch on the sheets hanging off of Kageyama's bed, and he tumbles on the floor with an audible smack. "What the heck, Kageyama?" he exclaims, sitting up and rubbing his right leg.

Kageyama gives him a deadpan stare. "It's late."

"I know! That's why I'm going!"

"It's cold as fuck outside." Kageyama scoots back to the wall. "My bed is big enough for the two of us."

The room is suddenly too hot and stifling. "What do you—s'not like I'm going on a _maiden voyage_. My house is just ten steps away—"

"Hinata," Kageyama says, ears turning pink. "We're just going to sleep. Literally."

Oh. _Oh_. "Why didn't you say so, you jerk?" Shouyou makes a show of stomping towards Kageyama's bed and flinging the sheets.

Kageyama scoffs. One side of his mouth curls up into a sneer. "It's not my fault your brain is full of dirty thoughts." He keeps a hand on Shouyou's waist as Shouyou slinks closer, facing him.

"It's just—the way you said it..." Shouyou grumbles. He distracts himself by twirling the drawstring on Kageyama's hoodie.

"Sorry." Kageyama sounds totally unrepentant.

Shouyou looks up to meet Kageyama's gaze. Their faces are so close that he can feel the other man's breath on his skin. "Should we... should we talk about that?"

"What? Sex?"

Shouyou reflexively flinches. Kageyama being so blasé about this is not helping his nerves. "Y-yeah," he stumbles out. "I haven't done it with a guy before." He can count on one hand all the sexual experiences he's had with girls, but when it comes to guys, Shouyou's at a complete loss.

Fortunately, Kageyama hears the unspoken question there. "I have."

Shouyou gasps. " _Really?_ "

Kageyama shrugs. "I'm around a lot of guys most of the time." He frowns. "Some teammates like fooling around. Especially after a game."

"Ahh. That makes sense." Stack a bunch of physical guys in a room, all reeking of power and testosterone, stuff's bound to happen. "When was your first time?"

"Nineteen. In Brazil."

"Summer Olympics?"

"Yeah."

Shouyou smiles despite himself. "So the rumors are true, huh?" He's heard about the things athletes do out there in between games, all cooped up in the Olympic Village; they're young, at the height of their physical fitness, under immense pressure, with loads of excess energy. Really not difficult to imagine.

Kageyama averts his eyes and rests his chin over the crown of Shouyou's hair. "I did it twice," he mutters. There's a hint of shyness in his voice, which comforts Shouyou a bit. "I just wanted to know what it feels like. What my body can do." He shrugs again, making Shouyou's nose brush with the swell on Kageyama's smooth throat. "It was alright."

Shouyou breathes out a shallow laugh. "Just alright? Nothing spectacular?" he teases.

Kageyama turns silent. Shouyou can hear the gears in his head shifting. "I did it both ways," he says eventually. "And both were okay, but it's not like I had a lot of experience to glean from. Besides, I didn't really care for it."

"Oh."

"But they also said it's a lot better if you do it with someone you like," Kageyama says, very softly. "So. I wouldn't really know."

 _Oh_. Shouyou thinks, remembering. Kageyama's voice was amazed and fearful when he whispered, once, _No one's ever been with me before_. He purses his lips, then says, "Kagayema-kun. You'll have to, like, walk me through the steps. Okay?"

Kageyama's shoulders stiffen. "I'm not forcing you to do it with me," he says, his voice taking on a hysterical note. "I was just—"

"Answering my questions, I know." Shouyou can't help but cackle, and Kageyama's hand flies to Shouyou's scalp, gripping tightly. " _Ow_! Sheesh, that hurt! I'm not making fun of you!"

"Then stop fucking laughing!"

"Alright, alright!" Shouyou says, grin still in place. He drags himself up so he and Kageyama are eye-level. "I'll try not to piss you off since apparently you're the one who has more experience."

Kageyama's gaze on him turns heavy. "You sure you want to do it? With me?"

"Of course. Who else?"

"Alright." Kageyama flushes deeply and kisses the space between Shouyou's eyebrows.

"You're not gonna go overboard and draw diagrams for us on a whiteboard, are you?" Shouyou says.

Kageyama narrows his eyes. "Sex isn't like volleyball, dumbass."

"But 'teamwork makes the dream work' still applies, yeah?" Shouyou jokes. "Slick, grade-A pass to the attack line, toss, spike. _Score_."

Kageyama seems to be actually considering it. "You're right," he finally says, tone soft and content.

"Let's do it someday," Shouyou says, snuggling more into Kageyama's arms, feeling greedy. "Not right now. I'm almost lights out. But someday."

"Someday," Kageyama agrees, voice low. He draws them closer, one hand still on Shouyou's hair, stroking them absently.

Shouyou rubs his nose against Kageyama's hoodie, making sure the mixed scent of lemon soap and moon milk imprints on his mind.

~O~

The next morning, Shouyou wakes to a series of harsh, insistent raps on the door. Kageyama is the first to move, groaning and winking angrily at the sunlight streaming from the window. He slides off the bed and opens the door.

Shouyou's about to fall asleep again when he hears a boom of gleeful laughter from the _tatami_ room. Someone roars, "Fuck you, Kageyama! Why didn't you tell us you weren't dead yet, you asshole?"

Shouyou sits up immediately, sheets and pillows flying. He has a sinking feeling he knows who Kageyama's unexpected visitors are, and he instantly regrets agreeing to stay the night. His eyes scan for a closet or a space big enough where he can hide, but there's none. He falters, telling himself that he's reacting unreasonably—it's not like he's some thief or a pervert, breaking into Kageyama's house. What's he acting so skittish for?

 _But_ , Shouyou thinks as he swallows down the thick lump in his throat. _Maybe it's better if they don't get the wrong idea._ He stands up and fixes Kageyama's bed. He stands in front of the mirror and tries to flatten his perpetually uncooperative rust-colored hair, to no avail. He gives up and opens the door silently.

When he comes downstairs, there's a congregation of tall, burly men in gym shorts or track suits, except for one guy who's in jeans and a sweatshirt. They brought a huge box of pizza with them.

"—iumi-san, please keep quiet. You're making so much noise," Kageyama grouches, ushering his teammates to the single couch that has enough room for only three of them.

"You must really be feeling better if you're already comfortable lording over us, Tobio!" the man with the goatee snickers, slinging his arm around Kageyama.

Kageyama pries himself out of the man's grasp. "I'm serious. Someone's still sleeping upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

At that moment, everyone's eyes fall on Shouyou, who's standing frozen by the stairwell. Kageyema sighs, eyebrows furrowing in frustration.

"Who's he, Tobio?" Goatee man says.

Kageyama, in the most emotionless voice humanly possible, answers, "He's my lover."

_Lover?_

Shouyou's face flames as he continues down, everyone except for Kageyema gaping at him. "Er, hi!" he says, bowing. "I'm Hinata Shouyou. I live at the house across the street. Nice to meet you guys!"

A man with a shocking full head of white hair shuffles and leaps in front of Shouyou. He's the shortest one in the group, only a couple of centimeters taller than Shouyou. "Is it true? Are you Kageyama's boyfriend?" he asks, almost shouts, point blank.

Shouyou blinks. "Uh—"

"Yeah." Kageyama slinks to Shouyou's side. He then nudges him. "Hinata, these are my teammates in the V. League. Don't mind them."

The man in the jeans laughs. "What a lukewarm way to introduce us, Tobio," he says in accented Japanese. He bows at Shouyou. "I'm Tatsuto Sokolov, but you can call me Sokie. Everyone here in Japan does. Nice to meet you too."

Shouyou's eyes widen in recognition. "Ahh! You're the Adlers' super cool, super fast middle blocker!" He remembers pulling out one of the Adlers' games from his 'Watch Later' list on YouTube and hearing the announcers wax poetic about the Russian-born player. "Woah. I can't believe you're _so freaking tall_ up close, Sokie-san! You were like a wall against the Green Rockets for the whole season last year!"

Sokolov looks startled, before laughing once more, hand on his neck. "Thank you, you're very kind," he says.

"You've been watching our games, Hinata-san?" a man with a quiet voice and mild demeanor asks. Shouyou can't remember his name, but he can vaguely recall the moniker the announcers kept on saying during the broadcast. Was it Spiderman? Spider fingers?

"Sometimes!" Shouyou says. "But usually I just watch the highlights."

The man smiles tinily. "I'm Hirugami Fukuro."

"Nice to meet you, Hirugami-san!

"Alright, that's enough," Kageyama says, stepping between Shouyou and his teammates, his back towards Shouyou. "I want you guys to just—"

Somebody's stomach rumbles.

"Sorry," a man with ash brown hair says, his face expressionless.

The one beside him— _Nicolas Romero_ , Shouyou remembers. The Brazilian offensive tank—guffaws and slaps Serious Guy's arm. He says something to them in English, pointing at the pizza. The rest of the team save for Serious Guy and Kageyama double over in laughter.

"If you're hungry, I can cook something for you guys," Shouyou offers. He nudges Kageyama with his elbow. "I'll go get 'ya some food."

Kageyama's lips pucker into a severe frown. "Aren't you busy today? You can go. We'll survive."

"Nope! S'why I stayed over in the first place." Shouyou mimics his scowl. "And that's no way to treat your teammates, jeez. They drove all the way here to see you!"

"Yeah, Kageyama! What he said!" the white-haired guy quips. "Throw us a party or something!"

"I should've bought a cake, too," Sokolov murmurs. "Damn."

Shouyou squeezes Kageyema's forearm. "I'll be back in a few. Go catch up with them." It's also time for a strategic retreat on his part. He's still wearing yesterday's clothes.

Kageyama doesn't look pleased at this development, but he nods anyway.

Before Shouyou can close the front door fast enough, he hears Kageyama growl to his team, "I really like that fucking idiot, so don't act like shits to him—" He doesn't hear the rest of the threat.

Shouyou blushes to the roots of his hair as he enters his own home, Kageyama's low, menacing tone reverberating in his head.

...

He gets a quick rundown of their names: Serious Guy is Ushijima Wakatoshi; White-Haired Guy with The Intense Seagull Eyes is Hoshiumi Kourai; Goatee Guy is Heiwajima Toshiro; and Bowl Cut guy is Shibahara Aki, Adlers' rookie setter. The dining table isn't big enough to hold eight professional volleyball players, so they move the couch aside and eat cross-legged on the _tatami_ mat, forming a circle around the homemade food courtesy of the Hinatas. It kind of reminds Shouyou of the potluck parties he and his friends in high school used to throw every summer and winter, only he isn't sure if there's enough food for everyone.

"This is _delicious_ ," Hoshiumi tells Shouyou. There's rice stuck to his chin. "What's in this curry bowl? It's like it's made of magic!"

"No magic," Shouyou says, feeling a bit proud. "Just lots of practice."

Beaming, Romero raises his fist, and Shouyou meets it with his own.

"It's a match made in heaven," Sokolov remarks wryly, as Heiwajima titters beside him. "'Cause Tobio can't cook to save his life, did you know? And yet he's always the first one to complain about our team dinners tasting like overcooked crap."

Shouyou laughs lightly and does a quick glance at the glowering but silent Kageyama. "My grandmother's actually very dedicated to teaching him, so he's learning a fair bit." He grins. "He's pretty terrible though with a knife—he even chops cheese so unevenly, Gran was in hysterics—but it's great! At least I'm sure he ain't got the skills to use it against me anytime soon."

Ushijima cracks a smile, while the rest of the Adlers laugh.

"If he threatens you multiple times with death and violence, that's when you know. You've already unlocked that sacred, high-level friendship status with Kageyama-san," Hirugami attests.

Heiwajima grins, expression mischievous. "Hinata-san isn't even at that level anymore." He then asks Hinata, "How was it, romancing our adorable, ill-tempered setter? Or did he put the moves on you first?"

Sokolov scoffs mightily. "No way Tobio's got the necessary equipment for that. I'm willing to bet my fucking _left leg_ that Hinata-san's doing all the heavy lifting." He winks at Shouyou. "Look at how much I have faith in you already. Be _extremely_ touched."

Kageyama clears his throat, glaring daggers at Sokolov. "You didn't answer my question earlier," he says. It's the first time he spoke ever since they gathered in the room. "How did you find me?"

"You do realize you have other people looking out for you. Not just us." Sokolov snorts as he swirls the _ramen_ noodles with his chopsticks. "Your mom told us. You worried her _sick_."

"You shouldn't be making your mom worry so much, Kageyama," Hoshiumi chides. "That ain't manly at all."

Kageyama looks stunned. "You... you asked my mother about me?"

" _Dude_ , you just disappeared from the face of the earth without telling us! You were screening our calls and your apartment was stone cold. What do you think we should've done?"

"I heard you told Coach and management where you are, but they wouldn't tell us anything. Said to leave you alone for a while," Hirugami says. "Then Romero-san and Ushijima-san called us up yesterday, so this was all a last-minute thing, really."

Sokolov laughs at Kageyama's pinched face. "That means we won't be staying long, so don't worry. We've only got the clothes on our backs, and my wife's going to kill me if I'm not home by nine."

"Your biggest fan came to see you, too!" Hoshiumi says, and Shibahara, who's got his eyes trained on his rice bowl, blushes fiercely at the statement.

Kageyama is overwhelmed, Shouyou can tell. There's that tightness at the ends of his mouth, his hands curled into firm fists over his thighs. He bows, black hair completely hiding his face. "Thank you," Kageyama mutters hoarsely.

"You're going to have to tell us everything about your year-long getaway, as punishment," Sokolov says, trying to brighten up the mood that had suddenly turned somber. "Don't leave any details out."

Kageyama nods at his plate of pork curry, gaze unfocused. Shouyou twirls his pinkie around Kageyama's free hand, and watches as Kageyama's frown eases a little.

Romero, with his broken Japanese, eventually reminds everyone of the family-sized pizza lying forgotten somewhere in the kitchen, the slices now probably as cold as a pig's snout.

...

Romero's white family van has only enough space for the seven Adlers and a cooler for drinks and frozen _unagi_. Hoshiumi enthusiastically bids Shouyou goodbye and exchanges numbers, telling him not to hesitate to call if the need arises.

"Next time I come over, I want to see you jump," Hoshiumi also says. "Kageyama says you've got some mean jumping legs on you, and you know how hard it is to impress that guy."

"Oh," Shouyou stutters, but recovers quickly. "Sure thing! You're an awesome all-around player, Hoshiumi-san! So it means a whole lot coming from you!"

Hoshiumi turns pleased, flushing with pride. "Ha! I really am, aren't I?" he says. "If Kageyama asks, tell him I'm your favorite player. See if it messes with him."

Sokolov laughs, overhearing their conversation. "If you ever come to Sendai, ring us up too and we'll give you free tickets to our games," he tells Shouyou as he loads the cooler in the back.

"Thank you, Sokie-san!"

A deep-toned, rumbling voice calls from behind him. "Hinata Shouyou."

Shouyou whirls around, startled to find Ushijima gesturing for them to talk alone behind the van. Shouyou breaks into sweat. He can't read Ushijima's expression, and he's _freakishly_ tall and well-built.

"Is everything okay, Ushijima-san?" Shouyou prompts, when Ushijima does nothing but stand before him wordlessly.

Ushijima frowns minutely, before giving Shouyou a ninety-degree bow.

"Uh—"

"Thank you very much for taking care of Kageyama-san for us," Ushijima says when he surfaces.

"Oh, uh. You're welcome?" Shouyou says. "But it's not really... He came all this way, and I just—I wanted to be his friend—and Kageyama was cool about it, you know? He goes along with whatever I wanna do even though I must've bugged him a lot. S'really more because of him. Not because I did much, so."

"Nevertheless," Ushijima responds evenly. "Kageyama-san is a prized player of ours, and we wouldn't have been as good a team as we are all these years without him. Him being well enough to be able to see and speak to us is good for the team. Also." He quirks a tiny smile. "As his friend, it's nice to see him be comfortable with someone outside his family and the team, after all that's happened."

Kageyama really has a lot of good people around him. Shouyou wills away the growing tightness in his chest, feeling oddly stricken. "It must've been hard on everyone," he mumbles.

Ushijima shrugs. "It's part of playing the game we love. I've known Kageyama since we were in high school. I don't think I've ever met anyone who wouldn't hesitate to give up anything just to play in every game." He nods again at Shouyou. "I heard he's playing volleyball again with some of your friends in the neighborhood. So, like I said. We owe a lot to you, Hinata Shouyou-san."

"Don't mention it," Shouyou says. "I do all sorts of crazy things for the ones I love, too."

Ushijima smiles, the ends of his lips quirking higher this time. "He looks better. He should spend a few more weeks here."

Shouyou hears the words left unsaid: _And come back, and be better than ever._ He tries not to dwell too much on the thought and musters a smile back.

Ushijima bows again and hands a sheet of paper. It's his cellphone number and the team's contact details, carefully handwritten. "Please keep in touch," he says quietly, raising his hand in goodbye.

Shouyou waves back. "I will!"

~O~

Two days after the Adlers' visit, it's Kageyama Mayaka who's standing in front of the Iwasawa residence, a scarlet red luggage in hand. Her arrival stirs Satomori into wakefulness, the villagers greeting her like the dearest of friends and asking about her like a stranger. She's two years shy from fifty, but Shouyou swears she looks a decade younger than anyone he knows are in their forties, with her short, glossy black hair and elegant air. But her eyes—a deep ocean blue, the same shade as Kageyama's—tell a different story; cool yet gently weathered, they look like they belong to someone who's seen ghosts of all kinds.

She visits Shouyou's place with her son the following day, and they have tea and spiced tuna on rice for brunch. Kageyama is a little meek and a lot more polite around his mother, but acts more or less the same as he has with the Hinatas. Mayaka has a lot of stories to share about young Kageyama and his forays with volleyball and school, and Shouyou is very much an engaged audience.

"Oh, he was a lot more uptight when he was younger," Mayaka says not unkindly. She cards her fingers through her son's hair, who only shifts away slightly. "I'm glad you met Tobio when he's already mellowed out a bit. He would've gotten on your nerves so much if you two were classmates."

Shouyou grins at her. "For sure," he says cheerfully. "We would've been sworn enemies."

"Oh! Has he told you about the time he got in trouble for demanding the vice principal to exempt him from taking remedial classes? Just so he could attend a practice match in Tokyo?"

"He hasn't," Shouyou says in mock solemnity. He pours her another cup of _assam_ tea.

Mayaka laughs and then launches another spiel, egging on Shouyou to make fun of her son with her. Shouyou complies, cackling and remarking smartly at all the right parts of her stories. Kageyama sips his own tea and watches them talk, eyes flicking back and forth placidly.

"I told my mom about us," Kageyama says to him once Mayaka excuses herself to the bathroom.

Shouyou figured. She was looking at him with intense interest ever since they met outside Shouyou's house. "How'd she take it?" Is she angry? She didn't seem like it, but maybe she's only being polite.

"She said it would take some time to get used to." Kageyama grimaces. "She wants a grandchild, so she's still holding out hope I'd end up with some girl."

Shouyou almost makes a joke about it not being too late to get a girlfriend, but he stops himself in time. Kageyama gets extra angry at any insinuation of them breaking up, even if it's obvious that Shouyou's completely kidding.

Kageyama sighs deeply. "That was okay. Right?"

"Yeah, definitely. We did say we should do this properly. You did good, Kageyama."

Kageyama leans back, palm flat on the floor. One side of his mouth curls up afterwards.

Mayaka comes back at this moment, peering at their silent exchange, before taking her seat and smiling softly at Shouyou.

...

Before dinner, Mayaka drops by at the Hinatas and offers to help Shouyou in the kitchen. Shouyou suspects Kageyama told her about his previous wish of getting precious critique from the grand queen herself. He ushers her in, excited and exceedingly nervous, not wanting to disappoint her.

"My child is so spoiled by you," Mayaka says as she sits on the chair Shouyou brought by to the counter. "Imagine eating like a king each day."

"We made a deal when he came here." Shouyou steps on the stool and reaches for the soy sauce and _sake_. "Looking back, I was more or less bribing him, really."

"What's the deal about?"

"I said I'd cook for him whenever he wants if he hangs out with me."

"That doesn't sound so fair."

Shouyou's surprised into a laugh. "Kageyama said the exact same thing, actually!" he shares. "But I think his company's worth a hundred buckets full of Mishima beef, so it's more than fair, actually!"

Mayaka stares straight at him, as if what Shouyou said is news to her. She then chuckles, a delicate hand over her mouth. "I've often heard of my son being described in the context of meat, but not like this."

By the time Shouyou's gotten to glazing the _unagi_ , Mayaka stands next to him, tasting the eel meat. Whatever adjustments she thinks would make the dish taste better, Shouyou writes it down on a fresh page of his notebook.

"You cook really well," Mayaka says. "Like _really_ well. And with no formal training? That's very impressive."

"Thank you, Kageyama-san!"

"Have you ever thought of expanding your family's business? You could get yourself a good place in Sendai. I know a few people who can help you."

Shouyou smiles shyly. "I've thought about expanding, but I don't really want to leave this place, so it's not something I've considered. Plus, I have to take care of Gran." He shrugs. "I just like cooking."

"You sure do," Mayaka mutters, eyeing the moon milk recipe. She then looks up and smiles. "I think you're all set, Shouyou-kun. Let's eat."

This time, Mayaka tells Shouyou more about herself and the shared history of the Hinatas and the Iwasawas. Her family used to be merchants in Satomori, making a fortune out of buying and selling sugar. They're one of the wealthier, well-respected families in Satomori, and perhaps the whole of Kamiyama, which made it strange when the Iwasawas built their ancestral home so close to the reviled, mysterious Hinatas. Mayaka divulges that it was because the head of the Iwasawa family back then, her great-great-great aunt, Iwasawa Kana, had admired a Hinata, a handsome, mild-mannered peach farmer with fiery red hair named Rikuto.

Obviously, the love affair had resulted in nothing, for Kana was already promised to another man, a wealthy sugar trader who could help expand the family business. But during the turn of the new century, Satomori was no longer the epicenter of sugar production in Kamiyama, and the Iwasawas descended to near poverty. In the 1980s, the rest of Mayaka's siblings and extended family had already fled to the cities and started a new life. She initially had no plans of leaving Satomori, desiring to be the final bastion of the Iwasawas, but then she met Kageyama Kaito, who was staying in town for a few days.

"It was love at first sight," Mayaka says with a soft, embarrassed laugh. "But don't tell Tobio I said that. I always wanted him to be sensible in choosing who he wants to be with."

"But you chose well." That much is evident.

Mayaka smiles. "I really did. And our love gave us our greatest treasure ever." She leans over the table and grasps Shouyou's hand. "Tobio may not be a man who expresses himself well with words, but we showered him with a lot of love and praise, and raised him as best as we can." She squeezes Shouyou's fingers. "I hope that my son has been giving you as much affection as we tried to impart to him."

"He has. He always has," Shouyou murmurs, and Mayaka removes her hand. "He's not..." He swallows. "Kageyama's not exactly okay now, is he?"

Mayaka's smile turns sadder. "He's better now than he was before. _Way_ better. You should've seen him the last two years. We almost thought we lost him." She shakes her head, tapping her cup with her index finger. "It's funny. My son's emotional growth has always lagged behind his physical capabilities. But he's doing so well here. It might not look like it, but I've never seen Tobio so happy in such a long time. And I can't help but think, what if in those two years he spent in abject misery in Tokyo, I should have made him spend it here instead? What if I had never left this town in the first place and raised him here? Would he have been healthier? Happier?"

Shouyou looks around frantically for a box of napkins, but they're all out. He spots the rolls of towelettes near the fruit basket, takes a couple of them and hands them to Mayaka.

She takes one gratefully and blows her nose on it. "I'm terribly sorry for that," she croaks out when she recovers.

"Don't be," Shouyou says. He feels like crying himself.

They stay silent for a while, consumed by their own thoughts, until Shouyou speaks, "Kageyama-san. I'm glad."

Mayaka turns her attention to him swiftly. "Hmm?"

"Everything that happened, I'm glad it did," Shouyou says. "From your great aunt to you deciding to raise Kageyama in Sendai. If all that hadn't happened, Kageyama wouldn't have volleyball." He smiles with all his teeth. "Your son's greatest love is volleyball, isn't it? I can't even imagine him without it. That's why he came here and is trying to get better, because he loves it so much. So I'm glad, because you gave that kind of hope to him."

Mayaka rips open another towelette and dabs under her eyes. She sniffles twice and says, "I've always liked the weather here. Not as extreme as in Sendai, or as changeable like in Tokyo. Maybe sugar canes have long since stopped growing properly here, but the people are always able to dust themselves off and keep going."

"We've got rice now," Shouyou chirps, and Mayaka laughs.

"Rice indeed grows well here now, among other things," she says.

Shouyou smiles at his teacup. "Things grow in suitable soil. Someone wise told me that, when I was wandering the hillside."

"I can tell you're surrounded by kind, wise people."

"Yeah." He then looks up at Mayaka, morphing his expression into something more earnest. "I like your son very much," Shouyou declares. "So I'll gladly support anything that'll get him back to doing what he loves. I—I won't get in his way from achieving that."

Mayaka goes silent, and then sighs. "From the looks of it, Tobio doesn't want to leave this place any more than you do," she says. "I didn't come here to convince him to come back. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't... surprised. At the strength of his feelings for you. His attachment to this place." Her eyes shine with fresh, unshed tears. "Now that I finally had the chance to speak to you alone, I think I can understand a little.

"Tobio's grown up now. It's been so long since I had to choose for him. I just hope that with you helping him, being there with him, my son will arrive at the best decision."

Shouyou bobs his head, and Mayaka places her palms over his again. Her hands are very warm, just like her son's.

~O~

_December 22, 2024_  
_Winter_

...

On the morning of Kageyama's birthday, snow starts falling.

From eight in the morning to three in the afternoon, Shouyou's out delivering food. Some of the villagers are aware of the day's significance, and so Shouyou goes home with a sack of _daikon_ , a plastic container filled with _natto_ , a dead, unplucked chicken, and five zip-top bags of frozen blueberries in the back of his truck. As he drives home, he thinks of what he should make for Kageyama's dinner party, especially now that he's got contributions from all around town. Yokohito had boasted he got Kageyama the best chicken he had in his coop.

"Oh!" Shouyou exclaims as he parks his truck. As he jumps out of the driver's seat, he dials Kenma's number.

"Is this about Kageyama Tobio-san?" Kenma's voice drawls from the receiver before Shouyou could get a word in edgewise.

Shouyou's jaw slacks. "How did you—"

"It's his birthday today." Kenma yawns, making the line crackle. "I remember. You keep saying."

Shouyou loosens his scarf, coughing awkwardly. "Right. Sorry for disturbing you."

"It's fine. I'm working from home today. Why did you call?"

"I was just wondering... Do you remember that fancy bread you brought here when you visited last time?"

"Ahh." Then Kenma says some foreign words that Shouyou can't pronounce.

"What? Come again?"

Kenma repeats it.

"Gou—" Shouyou's tongue twists uncomfortably in his mouth. "G-gou—re?"

Kenma laughs under his breath. "I'll text you. It's a French puff pastry from the bakery Kuro likes. You want to make it for Kageyama-san?"

"Yeah! Yours had strawberries in it, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Alright. Thanks!"

"Happy birthday to Kageyama-san."

"I'll tell him that! Take care, Kenma!"

"Bye, Shouyou." Kenma hangs up.

It takes a while to carry all the stuff from his truck into the kitchen, and it takes twice as long to pluck the chicken completely and soak in the marinade. When he's done, he checks his phone. Not only did Kenma send him the name, he sent him the entire recipe. Blueberry _galette_. Shouyou snickers. It's real fancy, alright. Quite fitting for royalty.

He scrolls through the ingredient list. He's got everything save for the lemon juice. That makes him pause for a while, then he scours the cabinets for anything he can use as a substitute. He's debating with himself over using cider vinegar when Grandma comes to the kitchen with a loud sigh.

"You're banging the doors so loudly, my sweet. It's giving me a headache," Grandma says. "You can use the vinegar in smaller quantities."

Shouyou smiles at her gratefully. "Thanks, Gran!"

She looks over Shouyou's shoulder, reading the recipe on the screen. "Instead of two cups of berries, add in one and a third more," she instructs.

"Okay!"

Grandma cackles."Oh, just look at how fired up you are. Alright, then, I'll leave you to it. Send all my love to the Kageyamas."

"You're not going?"

"Only if you people will allow me to drink whatever I want in this cold weather. If not, then what's the point?"

Shouyou laughs. "Maybe you can drink a teeny tiny bit of rice wine. Maybe."

Grandma snorts and waves her hand listlessly at him.

...

When Kageyama opens the door and lets him inside, it takes a while for Shouyou to notice something different. "Where's your mom?" he asks Kageyama. "I thought she'd be eating with us today."

"She's not."

"What?" Shouyou exclaims, almost dropping the roasted chicken on the floor. He motions to all the food he's set on the table. "But—but I made all this stuff!"

Kageyama shrugs. "I don't know. Said she wanted to have drinks with your grandmother. Just the two of them."

Shouyou narrows his eyes at him. Kageyama's tone was _way_ too level to be considered unsuspicious. "What did she say exactly?" he questions.

At that, Kageyama's embarrassment begins to roll in waves. He kneels before the table and places chopsticks on either side. "She said that I should spend the night with you, since I already spent most of the morning with her." His shoulders then rise and he shouts, "It wasn't my idea!"

Shouyou puts his hands up. "I know, jeez. I wasn't saying anything." Kageyama's earlier conversation with his mom must've been something, alright.

"Aren't you cold?" Kageyama snaps, glowering at Shouyou's white cotton shirt as if its existence offended him greatly.

"Not really. Your heater's on, isn't it?"

"That can't be enough." Kageyama takes the black wool sweater on his couch and throws it haphazardly at Shouyou's face. "Bundle up, dumbass. I don't want you sniveling all over my mom's house."

Shouyou huffs, putting the sweater on. "I'm not like you, Gramps. I can handle a little chill." He pouts at the food. "Man, your mom's so cruel. How are we going to eat all of this?" There's roasted chicken, hot pot, _natto_ with rice, and all the vegetable side dishes. Plus, there's the blueberry pastry that Shouyou's keeping hidden in a black cardboard box.

"We'll manage," Kageyama says, before sitting next to him and smashing his lips against Shouyou's unsuspecting mouth.

"Kageyama," Shouyou mumbles in between shallow intakes of breath.

"Mhmm?"

"The food will get cold."

"Yeah." To his credit, Kageyama attempts to sound a bit concerned. He swipes his hands under Shouyou's jawline and kisses him fervently again.

Shouyou places his palm on Kageyama's neck, delighted to find the pulse there leaping under his touch. "Happy birthday," he says, breathless.

Kageyama grunts, and kisses Shouyou some more.

When they finally get to eat (and finish everything, much to Shouyou's amazement), he gives Kageyama his birthday present. Kageyema's face does something indescribable when he takes off the lid of the box—Shouyou almost regrets not pulling out his phone and taking a video of the whole exchange. But he does make sure that he'll have something to look back on; he mentally catalogs the way Kageyama's eyes have gone all misty before pulling Shouyou closer by his sweater, and the sweet taste of blueberries bursting in his mouth.

~O~

Mayaka leaves the next day, when the snow has started to pick up, her corduroy coat as conspicuously red as her luggage. Kageyama offers to drive her to the bus terminal, where Kageyama's dad would be waiting, but his mother firmly declines. She wants to take her time leaving this place.

Kageyama doesn't shed a tear, but he does melt easily into the embrace his mother gives him. Shouyou watches as she touches Kageyama's cheek once, and walks into the snowy path without a backward glance.

~O~

Shouyou can't pinpoint the exact time it started, but he's now realizing that he and Kageyama seem to be spending almost every waking moment with each other. Kageyama's with him when he makes deliveries even outside of Satomori, and he even stays the night in Shouyou's room despite the _futon_ being far too small, making sleeping with each other almost intolerable. Fortunately, Grandma's refraining from commenting about it, but the concerned glances she gives Shouyou whenever he sets off for work are hard to ignore.

He noticed something was different about Kageyama's behavior when one time, in early January, he started knocking on Shouyou's door, as if they hadn't said their goodbyes only minutes ago. As soon as Shouyou slid the shutters open, Kageyama drew him into his arms and pulled him in a very tight embrace—it was a little embarrassing since Grandma Eiko was in the _tatami_ room, watching them with a melancholy look on her face.

There was an air of desperation in the way Kageyama had clung to him, and Shouyou didn't know what to do but to cling back until it made it hard for them to breathe, twin emotions fusing and amplifying each other.

Kageyama also says very little when they're together, content with listening to Shouyou talk about anything, or watching Shouyou as he listlessly cooks breakfast for them in his pajamas. Looking at Kageyama has always made him feel happy or annoyed, sometimes frustrated or aroused, but now, it makes Shouyou sad, too.

Before all of this began, Shouyou had wanted to ask his grandmother whether Kageyama belonged with him. Now, he's ultimately decided that he won't ever broach the topic with her. It's something the two of them can figure out on their own, and he's certain they don't need spirit guardian magic to find out where their future lies ahead.

"It's going to be fine," Shouyou murmurs against Kageyama's mouth. They're currently lying in Shouyou's _futon_ , almost every part of them touching. It's hot and uncomfortable, though Shouyou wants to lie down this way for a while. The sensation will make this moment harder to forget. "You just have to tell me things, okay? Especially when you feel like this. And I'll tell you everything, even the horrible stuff."

Kageyama responds, "You already tell me everything."

"I can tell you _more_." Shouyou traces Kageyama's lips with his own. "I don't want to hide anything from you. Though..." He chuckles. "S'not like you can't tell, anyway."

Kageyama wraps his hands around Shouyou's sweaty neck and melds their mouths together, soft and saccharine sweet. "I don't... I don't want us to ever break up," he confesses once they pull away, his voice scratchy with trepidation.

Shouyou nods. "Okay. I won't ever bring that up," he says. "You can't either."

"I'll never." Kageyama sighs, the tightness in the expression he's been holding for weeks finally starts slipping away, like sand against the rolling ocean waves.

Shouyou laughs under his breath, toes curling and clutching at the sheets. "I'm pretty sure about you, Kageyema-kun." He places his thumbs at the end of Kageyama's lips, before turning them up playfully. "I'm super mega _awesomely_ happy that you feel the same. What were the chances, right?"

Kageyama seems like he wants to talk, so Shouyou takes his fingers away. "The chances were high," he then mutters. "We're extremely compatible."

Shouyou colors. "That was a rhetorical question." He places his thumbs back, beaming. "I'm not gonna argue against that, though."

Kageyama cups Shouyou's warm cheeks, as if in retaliation. "You really can't," he says.

~O~

_February 10, 2025_  
_Winter_

...

Kageyama finally gets his hair cut. Shouyou's pestered him for weeks about it, insisting that he can't go back to Tokyo looking like a caveman. "What would your team say?" Shouyou had asked. "Your fans say? Look, we've got Satomori's reputation to uphold here. They'd think you got marooned to some seedy dumpster town."

"If I get my hair cut, you should, too." Even though they've talked about it, Kageyama still insisted to do a lot of stupid things together.

They're now sitting on pumped-up chairs in the salon, their eyes trained upwards at the television showing a rerun of a popular teen drama that aired last year.

Takahashi-san, the barber working on Kageyama's hair, is smirking at the reflection of the screen on the mirror. "He's definitely shagging his best friend's girlfriend," he comments to no one in particular. "That look he sent her? That's just textbook."

One of the patrons who Shouyou doesn't recognize makes a disgruntled noise. "You guessed right. I'd know, since I actually watched that crap with my youngest daughter," he says. "Well, I did like that the best friend ended up with a nice girl, but the mother-in-law was very unreasonable."

Aoyagi-san shears off a good amount of Shouyou's orange hair, making them unravel like sun rays. "I can't believe you just spoiled us the important bits! Most of us young 'uns haven't watched it yet." He laughs, nudging Shouyou. "Aren't I right, Shouyou-kun? Kageyama-san? Weren't we too busy this past year to watch some godawful teen show?"

Shouyou glances at Kageyama, and is pleased to find the other man looking straight back. "We really were," Shouyou answers honestly.

The man rolls his eyes at them, smiling all the while.

When Aoyagi and Takahashi are done with them, Shouyou almost doesn't recognize himself in the mirror. He looks skinnier without the long hair falling at the sides of his face, his jaw more angular, his eyes brighter. He peers at Kageyama, who's looking at his own reflection and appears to be having the same thoughts. They then stare at each other wordlessly for a moment.

It's quite incredible, how much can happen in a year.

"Wow," Shouyou says to Kageyama. "You know, you're really pretty for a guy." Kageyama's face is undoubtedly strong and masculine, but apparently, he's got a lot of delicate features hiding behind his bangs, like the slope of his nose, and the soft curl of his eyelashes. "If you weren't already a volleyball player, maybe you could've been a model or something."

"He is pretty tall," Takahashi intones, crossing his arms and looking proudly at his work.

Kageyama huffs and flicks Shouyou's now vulnerable ear.

~O~

He hadn't brought a lot of clothes with him when he came to Satomori, but Kageyama's trunk is filled to the brim with knick-knacks and containers of raw meat and seafood, farewell gifts from neighbors and friends. There's hardly any space now for his belongings. It takes Shouyou and Kageyama's combined brainpower to make sure everything fits, the whole process taking them around four hours to complete.

The next morning, there's a small crowd gathering in front of the Iwasawa home. Kageyama hands back Michuzi's bike and bows, though she ignores that and tearfully hugs Kageyama. After everyone's said their goodbyes, with Matsuda and Yokohito having the lengthiest speeches, they leave Shouyou and Kageyama alone beside the car. Grandma Eiko grasps both of their hands before she turns away, padding slowly back to her own house.

"Stupid," Shouyou says, holding up the box of dried persimmons. "You forgot these."

Kageyama takes it and places it gently on the driver seat. He then glances back at Shouyou, looking terribly unsure, before he opens his arms.

Like clockwork, Shouyou's throat tightens, and he launches himself at Kageyama. The side of his face smashes against Kageyama's shoulder, the impact strong enough to press Kageyama up against his car.

Everything inside Shouyou is clenching painfully that he can't breathe, he can't cry, he can't do anything but grip tightly at the seams of Kageyama's jacket. Kageyama clutches at Shouyou's sides, hard enough to leave bruises. Everything feels too cold and too warm.

 _Oh god_ , Shouyou thinks. He doesn't want Kageyama to leave.

But Kageyama has to, and they promised. All the things that happened the previous year had been leading up to this, but it's not the end. It's merely them taking a step towards something more, something _better_.

As long as Kageyama's out there in the world, Shouyou will never be alone.

"I just want you to know," Kageyama whispers. "That you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Me too," Shouyou whispers back. "And volleyball?"

"I love you just as much," Kageyama says easily.

That wasn't the answer Shouyou expected, but it does succeed in making him finally burst to tears. He can now breathe again.

He really doesn't want to let Kageyama go, but he has to, and so he does. "I love you, too," Shouyou says. "Eat well and stay healthy, okay?"

Kageyama kisses him fiercely, achingly, one last time, before he enters his car and turns on the ignition. Shouyou stays and watches until it becomes a dark blip, very far away, in the snowy landscape.

~O~

_February 13, 2025_  
_Winter_

...

It's a quarter 'til midnight, but Shouyou's still up. He's making cabbage soup for himself, famished after shoveling the snow that blanketed the driveways and fixing the frozen water pipes in the house that were already thick to bursting. When he blearily opens the lid of the pot, the steam puffing out hits him squarely on the face and jolts him awake.

The corner drawer feels strangely heavier than usual when he tries to open it for a ceramic bowl. He pulls with added force and peeks down.

He's surprised to find black leatherbound notebooks instead—nine of them, some in better condition than the others. It's a good thing he found these first; his grandmother will scold him to death if she ever saw these, all stacked precariously on top of the heirloom bowls.

Shouyou takes them out and aligns them in a neat tower over the counter, fairly certain that none of them are his recipe notebooks. He flips through one of them, and immediately realizes what they are, and whom they belong to.

They're Kageyama's volleyball journals. They don't have a name, but there's no one else Shouyou knows who's obsessed enough with the sport to sketch sixteen pages worth of diagrams, with detailed descriptions of his teammates' and opponents' playing styles.

Why did Kageyama leave them here without telling him?

Definitely awake now, Shouyou decides to eat his cabbage soup first before it congeals into a textureless blob of wet vegetables. As soon as he's done, he brings all of the journals with him to the backyard and opens the lamps on the decks. He sits on the rug and flips through the topmost one from the stack.

It's Kageyama's middle school journal. There are more drawings than actual sentences, which is a good thing, because most of them are hardly legible. He can only make out a few phrases: _Best setter_ , _spiker_ , _people that like me_ , _enemies_ , _stupid nicknames_ and _king of the court_.

"Jeez. What the heck is this handwriting?" Shouyou thought Kageyama had good finger muscles.

The third notebook on the stack is Kageyama's high school journal. It's wordier than the middle school one, and significantly more methodical.

 _I tried to trick the blockers by shifting my stance the last minute on the third set when Tanaka-san received a rogue ball with his elbow. Didn't work_ , Kageyama had written on the sixteenth of November, 2013. _They knew I was going to toss to him back instead of dump._

Shouyou can tell that his high school team—Karasuno High—had been a good fit for Kageyama. Kageyama had liked them enough to write that he wanted to win more games with them, even long after he graduated.

As a professional player, Kageyama had a more expansive vocabulary, though his handwriting was still atrocious. He wrote effusively about the Rio Olympics, and his disappointment of not bringing home the gold. He also drew diagrams of the certain plays he did in some of his World Championship appearances, both the successful ones and the flubs.

Shouyou's hand freezes when he reads the entry from January 7, 2021: _Something's wrong. All my brain scans turned out fine, but there's something wrong. I can tell._

He flips the next page. Kageyama had written: _I puked all over the kitchen sink as soon as I woke up. I can't see straight and it hurts to look at the lights directly. My head is pounding all the time. My shoulder feels like it's going to fall off._

There's no entries for several months, until November 14, 2021. _I can't play volleyball,_ Kageyama had written.

Kageyama couldn't write as regularly as he used to, afterwards. From December 20, 2021 to March 5, 2024, there are only four entries. Shouyou can almost hear Kageyama's voice saying those words, angry and curt.

**December 20, 2021**  
_Nothing's working._

**January 9, 2022**  
_I ate today. It tasted like sand._

**November 11, 2023**  
_I just slept._

**March 5, 2024**  
_My teammates came. I think I did something wrong, but I don't want to talk to them._

Shouyou opens the last notebook on the stack, and is surprised to find that the first entry was, Yatsuhashi _tastes really good._ It was dated March 21, 2024.

He sits up straighter, eyes bulging out of his sockets as he flips through the pages.

**March 25, 2024**  
_He fed me. He's always feeding me. I asked him how much I should pay him, but he didn't want anything. Is that okay? I'm not sure if it is._

**March 26, 2024**  
_He's a bad drunk._

**May 7, 2024**  
_Should I tell him?_

**May 30, 2024**  
_I'm attracted to him, I think. I look at him and I feel funny._

**June 13, 2024**  
_I saw fireworks. It didn't hurt my eyes or my ears. It was nice._

**June 21, 2024**  
_That bastard confessed first. He's never going to let me live that down._

**October 24, 2024**  
_Someone saw us._

**October 29, 2024**  
_He asked me if I wanted to break up and I got angry. Really angry. But we didn't break up._

**October 31, 2024**  
_We saw a volleyball game._

**November 17, 2024**  
_I played volleyball with his friends._

**November 26, 2024**  
_I met his sister and her friends. He warned me about what she can do. But it was still weird experiencing it first-hand._

**December 10, 2024**  
_My teammates came to see me. They weren't too angry._

**December 12, 2024**  
_Mom came. Dad couldn't come. She says she's only staying until my birthday._

**December 22, 2024**  
_It's my birthday. Shouyou made me dinner and cake._

At the next entries, Shouyou's insides twist in profound sadness.

**December 27, 2024**  
_Shouyou can't ever hurt me, but I can hurt myself. If I leave, I'll break Shouyou's heart and mine. I don't want to leave._

**January 3, 2025**  
_I have to go._

Letting out a shaky breath, Shouyou turns the page. Pasted on one side, there's a print-out of an article taken from _Horticulture & Farming: East Asian Fruits_. He unfolds the whole thing and reads:

_Growing Your Own Persimmons: Do It In Six Easy Steps_

  1. Deeply plow the soil and enrich with organic matter (i.e. leaves, manure) or fertilizer mixtures
  2. Plant tree. Prune young trees back to 0.74 to 0.91 meters
  3. Continue pruning during the first 4 to 5 winters
  4. Flowers will begin to appear 3-4 years or 5-6 years after planting
  5. After flowering, irrigate trees depending on soil consistency
  6. Harvest in the fall and early winter



Kageyama had encircled step number three with red ink, and Shouyou laughs out loud, warmth now spreading all over his chest and keeping the sadness at bay.

On the next page, two addresses were hastily scribbled in deep, black ink, complete with postal codes. The first is for an apartment in Tokyo, and the other is for the one in Sendai. Shouyou's heart begins to pound, blood rushing loudly in his ears.

And, in his familiar chicken scratch, Kageyama had added: _Send me letters. I'll write to you back._

Shouyou chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he whispers to the wind as he stands up, legs prickling and shaking in anticipation. He resolves to drop by the goldfish store tomorrow and buy some postcards.

He gathers all of Kageyama's journals in his arms and keeps them close.

~O~


	5. epilogue: when the cold brings the scent of japanese apricots

~O~

_December 22, 2030_  
_Winter_

...

Tobio shuffles in and out of wakefulness, dreaming of a solid, wintry gray sky. When he was younger, his unconscious would often picture it pressing down on him. He would sometimes wake up in cold sweat, feeling the phantom tension on his shoulders. More often now, he gets to dream of that same sky lifting him up.

He hears his name being called, and feels someone patting his cheeks insistently.

"Tobio, hey, it's almost noon," Shouyou says. "Get up."

"I drove for four hours in that stupid snow," Tobio mumbles, yawning widely. "Let me sleep in."

"It's your birthday!"

"Who cares?"

Something hard and heavy hits Tobio's back, and he yelps in pain. His eyes jolt open in full.

Shouyou is glaring back mightily at him. "Scoot over," he orders.

"You didn't have to fucking hit me, dumbass." Tobio wrestles with the sheets and gives Shouyou ample space.

"You deserve it," Shouyou grumbles, slipping into bed, his back facing Tobio. "I made you breakfast and lunch and now it's getting _cold_. See if I'll ever cook for you again, asshole."

Tobio frowns. Shouyou sounds... actually hurt over that. He presses his lips against Shouyou's nape and mumbles against the warm skin, "Sorry. I'm just really tired."

The other man turns silent for a long time that Tobio almost falls asleep again. And then Shouyou shifts, so suddenly, that their foreheads smack against each other. Tobio squints, rubbing the sore spot, before placing his hands over Shouyou's jaw and leaning in. Since they're now facing each other, he couldn't really resist.

Even after all this time, Tobio really likes kissing Shouyou. If someone was to make him choose what was the best part of being in a relationship for six years, he'd say that it's having all those years of experience under his belt, kissing and holding Hinata Shouyou in his arms exclusively. Whenever he has his lips on Shouyou's mouth and skin, everything in Tobio literally _lights up_ —there would be tiny little explosions in his stomach, and every place where their skins are touching would feel incredibly electric. Like magic.

Even now, Tobio can't explain why he sees actual sparks dancing around the corners of his vision, just that he does, every time, and it'd be embarrassing if Shouyou ever found out.

When they pull away, all that desire must have been transparent on his face, for Shouyou laughs under his breath and calls him greedy. Tobio doesn't care, though. Shouyou feels solid and deliciously warm.

"I'll eat everything later," Tobio mutters. "Let's stay like this for a while."

Shouyou shrugs. "Alright," he says, and Tobio pulls him closer so he can kiss the firm swell on Shouyou's neck.

"You really must've missed me, huh," Shouyou says, placing his ankle over Tobio's. "But seriously, don't do that again. Driving through all that heavy snow was really dangerous, stupid."

Maybe, Tobio thinks, but he was over at Hagura yesterday, so it was pretty much obvious where he would go to come spend the night. He nods, anyway. As long as he's here already.

Shouyou then says after a long moment of silence, "I read that retirement article S.O. published."

"Ahh. How was it?"

Shouyou grins wickedly. "S'totally obvious someone had to write it for you!"

Tobio has to smile. "I gave them a general idea. I didn't read it though."

"What if they said you've been dating Ushijima-san all this time?"

"It's fine," Tobio says. "No one would believe it."

Shouyou cackles lowly, his breath heating up Kageyama's neck. His expression then turns serious. "So Hagura? You really sure about that?"

"Uh-huh." Tobio has been sure for the longest time. He used to think that the only time he'd ever feel true devastation in his life is when he stops playing volleyball—though right now, he can't find that feeling in him anywhere. He's always been attuned to his body, and it's been telling him that it's time to channel his energies elsewhere.

There's always going to be a next set, a next challenge, another battle to be fought and won. If there's anything the past few years taught him, it's that volleyball is _everywhere_ ; he'll find it if he searches for it hard enough.

He just has to keep looking up.

"It's closer to our place," Tobio adds. Since 2025, he had only been able to come to Satomori during the off-seasons. That's about to change now.

Shouyou glances at him from under his lashes. "They aren't the most competitive team out there in Japan, you know? You can go coach a team with a better edge. Kamiyama isn't known for volleyball."

Tobio shrugs. "I'll make it so." He then hears a voice from a not-so distant past, telling him he's a shitty teacher. He wants to prove that dumbass wrong at all costs.

"Okay," Shouyou agrees, so easily, that Tobio flushes despite himself. "Once you're feeling better, come help me with the customers at the store. Yeah?"

"Alright."

"Don't be stingy and take photographs with them if they ask."

Tobio nods. He presses his forehead against Shouyou's, and the inevitable sigh that escapes him is quiet and content. He's right where he should be.

~O~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you reached the end, i just wanted to thank you for reading and finishing this! i hope you all have a fantastic day! :D

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://tinygumdrops.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/tinygumdrops) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/tinygumdrops)


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